Relatively Speaking
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: Sequel to Everything's Relative. Luke and his father have been reunited... but it seems every faction in the galaxy is attempting to tear them apart again.
1. Chapter 1

**Relatively Speaking**

**Sequel to "Everything's Relative"**

**Kenya Starflight**

_Rated PG for violence_

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: The reader is strongly encouraged to read "Everything's Relative" before reading this story; otherwise you probably won't have any idea what's going on._

_I know many readers felt cheated by the ending of "Everything's Relative," and for good reason – the story was short and left a whole lot of loose ends. I've decided to see what I can do about those loose ends by creating a sequel, picking up the morning after the events of the prequel…_

**Chapter I**

It was never truly night on Corusant. The sun couldn't shine on both hemispheres of the planet at once, of course, but that didn't make it true night. The planet remained aglow with color and light, alive with activity… perhaps even more alive than during the day. Every spire and tower glittered with lights, every thoroughfare glowed with advertising holos and cantina and shop signs. And in every dim corner of the city-planet, from the filthiest back alley to the most opulent palace chamber, illicit transactions and clandestine alliances took place under the ruse of "night."

This particular "night," just such a secret dealing was taking place.

Or was scheduled to, at any rate.

Grand Moff Tarkin made one more circuit of the room, arms clasped behind his back. Normally a calm, unflappable man, the prospect of meeting with the Emperor for any matter was enough to unsettle him slightly. Then again, standing before the ghastly-visaged monarch, being scrutinized by those eerie yellow eyes, with the foreboding bulk of Vader looming slightly behind his twisted master, would be enough to make anyone nervous.

Tarkin glanced up at the chrono, frowning. Where was the Emperor anyhow? He should have been here an hour ago. The Death Star project was of utmost importance to the Empire; what could have possibly been more important?

The door hissed open, and three scarlet-robed guards strode into the room. Tarkin drew himself straight, expecting the stooped form of the Emperor to enter behind them. Instead, the doors clanged shut behind the guards.

_/Odd/ _Tarkin thought. _/The Emperor isn't the type to use his guards as message couriers…/_

"Governor Tarkin," the guard in the center barked, "come with us."

"Is the meeting to take place elsewhere?"

"The meeting will not be taking place," the guard answered shortly. He sounded awfully young to be serving as a guard. The Emperor handpicked his bodyguards from the troops of the Empire, and normally he selected older, more experienced men to protect him. This one must be something special, he decided.

"What do you mean, not taking place?" Tarkin demanded.

"Exactly what I said, Governor." The guard raised one scarlet-gloved hand and motioned for Tarkin to follow. "Outside."

"Not until you explain to me what is going on!"

The guard gestured sharply, and the other two guards left the room. "This information is given on a strictly need-to-know basis," he explained. "And at the moment, the fewer, the better."

Tarkin nodded sharply. _/Get on with it/ _he thought. His time was precious. He had his hands full with the Outer Rim governorship, the Death Star project, and a multitude of other ventures, most not really needing the attention of the Emperor…

"Zevul Lodestar, captain of the Imperial Royal Guard," the guard introduced, saluting. "And since you insist, the Emperor will not be meeting with you because he has not yet returned from Tatooine."

Tarkin raised an eyebrow. "Tatooine? What in blazes is he doing there?"

"No one is sure," Captain Lodestar answered. "All we know is that he ordered a shuttle prepared and left three days ago. No one accompanied him except for two guards. They, too, are missing."

The Emperor gone? Missing? Now THAT was shocking news. The Emperor was known for being extremely reclusive, but he wouldn't simply vanish, would he?

"Is Lord Vader taking charge of the Empire in his absence, then?" Tarkin ventured carefully. The thought of that mad cyborg having control of the entire galaxy made his stomach lurch.

Lodestar drew a little straighter, as if bracing himself for the Moff's reaction. "Lord Vader is missing as well."

Tarkin felt his jaw drop. "Vader is missing?"

"From our records, it appears Lord Vader departed for Tatooine a week ago aboard the Stardestroyer Apocalypse. The shuttle's commanding officer reports that Vader went planetside alone, and he has made no move to contact the Apocalypse since. The Apocalypse remains in the system, awaiting further orders."

Tarkin drew in a deep breath. "It seems to me that the Emperor is seeking out his wayward right-hand-man." Though that didn't explain why Vader had gone AWOL as well. "That makes the Council of Moffs in charge of the Empire's affairs until the Emperor is found."

Lodestar didn't reply.

"You're excused, Captain," Tarkin told the man. "A scout team will be dispatched to Tatooine to investigate the matter."

The guard bowed from the waist and left.

A slight smile crept across Tarkin's face. A scout team would indeed be sent – eventually. But in the meantime, there was no hurry to seek out the Emperor and Vader. After all, he would be a fool to pass up this incredible opportunity. As the head of the Council of Moffs, he was now, suddenly and providentially, the most powerful man in the Empire. Would he really be so stupid as to find the Emperor and relinquish his newfound power to him?

He strode out of the chamber, laughing to himself. It was time to assemble the Council of Moffs and the Galactic Senate to make this announcement.

_Break…_

"Good morning, Luke."

Luke moaned and rolled over, burying his face in the soft pillows. Why did he have to get up now? He was having the greatest dream – that he'd found his father and watched him kill the evil Emperor, that he'd just had a great adventure…

"Don't wanna get up, Aunt Beru," he moaned.

"Your Aunt Beru's in the waiting room, Luke," the voice corrected. "Now up and at 'em, it's time to look at that head of yours and take your medicine."

He opened his eyes. Medicine? Waiting room? Where was he? Blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the sudden light, he turned his head. He wasn't in his bed at the farm, but in a white-sheeted cot surrounded by curtains, a thick bandage over his head and a monitor hooked up to his arm. And standing beside him was a young female doctor, with the blue skin and black hair of a Chiss and a friendly smile that reminded Luke of… someone, though he couldn't quite grasp the name or any other details.

So it WASN'T a dream! This was the medical center of Anchorhead, where his uncle had taken him a year ago when he'd broken his leg playing around with the family speeder. The bandage over his head had to be from knocking himself out on a rock during the fight with the Tuskens. And medicine… for treating the electrocution, maybe, from where the Emperor tried to kill him? It had been real, all of it. At least, he hoped it was real…

"How's my dad?" he asked anxiously. He'd been hurt badly by the Emperor too. He'd surely be here too if…

The nurse laughed slightly. "Your father is a very brave man, Luke," she said lightly, as if having a Dark Lord of the Sith in the medical center was an everyday occurrence. "And very lucky, too. If he'd been exposed to the electrical field any longer, he would have been beyond recovery. As it is, we weren't sure he'd make it through the night. But he's just fine now."

"Can I see him?" pleaded Luke. "I want to see… ow!"

"There we go," she said brightly, removing the needle from his arm and applying a syntheflesh bandage over the prick. "Now how's the head?"

"Just fine, I want to see my dad!" That had been a dirty trick, giving him an injection while he was distracted…

She sighed. "You really don't have to worry, Luke. We have some very good doctors here, and he's in good hands. But if you're really that concerned…" She turned around and pulled back the curtains.

Darth Vader was lying in the next bed, propped up in a sitting-up position, his armor scorched in places, his breathing still slightly labored – well, more labored than usual. His hands were clasped over his stomach, and they rose and fell ever so slightly in rhythm with his breaths. He didn't seem to notice the presence of Luke or the doctor, but stared off into space as if in deep thought or meditation.

"Maybe you two can talk a little while I'm gone," the doctor said cheerfully. "If you need me, just ring the buzzer – once, mind, not twenty-seven times." Evidently she'd treated kids before.

As soon as the doctor had bustled out of the room, Luke wriggled out of bed, wincing at the pain still lingering deep in his muscles, as if he'd spent all day yesterday hauling scrap metal. He slipped over to the side of Vader's bed and just watched him for the longest time.

His father… he'd wondered about him, even searched for him. And he'd always thought it odd that Uncle Owen would never talk about him. Then again, if this was his father, maybe there was a good reason…

Darth Vader his father… it was still so strange. He'd heard horror stories about him – that he could kill someone without even lifting a finger, that he had slaughtered Jedi by the dozens, that he was a remorseless and emotionless killer. It had never occurred to Luke that someone like Vader could get married, or have children. Or that someone like Vader could feel enough empathy toward his child to turn against and destroy his own master.

But Vader had done all that. He had rescued Luke not once, but twice, first from the bumbling impersonator Jax Pavan, then from the twisted psycho Emperor. He had acted heroically, as Luke had always pictured his father.

And deep down, Luke KNEW. He knew with a surety that Vader had to be his father. He didn't know how he knew; all that mattered was that his confidence in the matter could never be broken.

"Dad?" Luke whispered. He didn't know if Vader slept or not… or maybe he slept during the day, like those Byss vampires he'd heard spooky stories about…

Vader's helmet stirred slightly, as if he were just waking up. He turned his head slowly to lock eyes with Luke.

Luke held his gaze, unafraid. Behind that mask, he imagined what his father might look like. Blue eyes, like his own, of course, and maybe blond hair to match. A strong jaw that could just as easily smile in amusement as it could set itself in resolution, and arched brows that gave him a daredevil look. Add a few scars, perhaps, to attest of his prowess in battle…

"Luke." The voice – harshly electronic, resonant, as if a demon had spoken – was nonetheless suffused with emotion. "My son…"

Luke climbed onto the bed and lay beside his father, resting his head on his chest. "Dad, I missed you so much."

A black gauntlet raised, a gesture that struck terror in many a heart, for that hand almost always raised only to kill or summon troops. But this time it did neither, but came to rest on Luke's head.

"My son," Vader repeated. "I thought I would never see you."

Luke felt tears spilling from his eyes, and he hastily wiped them away on his sleeve. "Where were you? I was hoping you'd come back and take me home with you. I always thought you'd take me to meet Mom and we could… we could be a family."

Silence. Luke looked up and almost imagined he could see Vader frowning behind his mask. But it wasn't a frown of disapproval or anger. He seemed… sad.

"Your mother died long ago," Vader said slowly. "I never came for you because I did not know you lived. I thought you had died with her."

That was a good enough explanation for him. "But now that you're here, we're still a family, right? You and me and Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru…"

A strange staccato sound came out of Vader's mask, and Luke wondered if he was choking. It took him a few seconds to recognize the weird noise as laughter.

"Luke," he replied, "your innocence is so refreshing." He removed his hand from Luke's head and cupped the boy's chin fondly. "If only Padme could see you now."

"Padme? She's my mom, right?"

Vader nodded.

"I want to hear all about her. And about you. I'm sure you've had some awesome adventures…"

"Perhaps another time," Vader deferred. "But first, tell me about yourself."

_Break…_

Uncle Owen scowled, only half-listening to what the doctor was telling him. Continued medication for the next three months, watch for bone damage, specialized equipment for tending to Vader's cyborg parts, blah blah blah… He shouldn't be listening to this. He should be out in the fields, preparing the crop, not here in the med center receiving a lecture on how to take care of an invalid houseguest he didn't want in the first place.

"Any questions, Mr. Lars?"

"No," he said shortly. "Can we take Luke home now?"

"He's clear to go," she replied. "But we'd like to keep his father a few more days. I want to make sure he's completely stable before he goes home."

His father. Luke's father. Anakin Skywalker…

"Thank you," Beru told the doctor sweetly, shooting Owen a glare that meant he'd be receiving an earful as soon as the doctor left. "We'll let you know if we have any questions."

The doctor nodded and left.

Beru turned to face her husband. "Owen…"

"Don't say anything, Beru." He sat down and scrubbed at his face, three days' worth of stubble scratching his hands. "Don't say a word. I'm not ready to face him again."

"You knew this day would come sooner or later," Beru replied. "Maybe not in these exact circumstances, true…"

"Beru, he's not who he used to be. Look at him! He's a monster! And Luke idolizes him! Who in their right mind lets their kids idolize Darth Vader? Doesn't he know just what his father…"

"It's only natural for children to look up to their parents…"

"Even when their parents are mass murderers?"

"Luke doesn't see that when he looks at Vader. He sees a father he's been missing all his life, a father everyone's kept hidden from him…"

"For his own safety!"

"He doesn't know that!"

"What was I supposed to say? 'By the way, Luke, your father's a psychotic Dark Lord who strangles people for fun, now go wash up for supper?' How do you tell a boy his father's a monster?"

Beru sat down beside Owen and placed a hand on his arm. "Owen, I know you have some hard feelings against Anakin. And I know he's done some terrible things. But he's Luke's father, and we need to take that into account." She squeezed his arm. "Besides, Vader has killed the Emperor. I doubt the Empire will let him stay in power now that he's done that. He has nowhere to go, and Luke will never forgive you if you don't do something to help him."

Owen sighed deeply. He had hoped this day would never come. He had procrastinated in telling Luke, hoping he'd give up and let it go. And now…

"I don't know, Beru," he said at last. "I don't know what to do. I just don't. I mean… I love Luke. I want what's best for him. And in my gut, I just feel that… having his father around… it will just do a lot more harm than good."

Beru leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "We have a few days to think about it, Owen. In the meantime…" She stood. "I'm going to head back home. We have a couple of dewbacks that need fed and watered."

Owen looked up, puzzled. "Dewbacks?"

"Oh yes, didn't I tell you? Obi-wan brought those dewbacks by that Luke and that Jedi had with them. Apparently Luke's quite attached to them, especially since the one saved his life."

Kenobi on his property, Vader a houseguest, and two dewbacks as Luke's latest pets… and Owen thought he'd had problems before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

Obi-wan gave the spare, worn walls of his domicile one last look before lifting his bag and slinging it over one shoulder. This place had been his home for nine long years, sheltering him from the blistering heat, biting cold, and vicious sandstorms of Tatooine… and the prying eyes of the Empire. He had put hours of backbreaking labor into making it livable when he'd first come across it, deserted and in shambles, infested with vermin and every surface crusted with sand. And though there were few good memories within these walls, nor were there any truly unpleasant memories.

It was a shame that he had to leave it.

Yoda had been most explicit on that point – "an eye on young Skywalker keep, Obi-wan. His safety upon you rests. Your own judgment and no one else's trust." Well, his judgment told him that, with Vader back in Luke's life, it was best if he were close by. He may have killed the Emperor to save the boy's life, but that hardly made up for nearly ten years of life as a Sith.

But it was a step in the right direction. And perhaps they could encourage him to take another step on that path.

He turned to disconnect the holocomm unit and pack it away, but it chimed urgently with news of an incoming message. Frowning, he activated the unit.

"General Kenobi!" exclaimed Senator Bail Organa, his image blipping to life. "I'm sorry to contact you – you said unless it was an emergency…"

"And I trust this is an emergency?" asked Obi-wan.

"The Emperor has gone missing," Bail replied. His dark, handsome features were creased and tight, as if he couldn't decide whether he should be concerned or ecstatic about recent events. "Grand Moff Tarkin announced it to the entire Senate just this morning. The Emperor is gone… and Lord Vader as well."

Obi-wan nodded. "I know."

Bail blinked. "You do?"

He nodded again. "Just this last evening, I watched Darth Vader cut down his own master to save his son's life."

The senator just stared.

Obi-wan laughed. "It's quite the story, old friend. But I sense there's something else on your mind?"

It took Bail a moment to recall what else he was going to say. "Tarkin further stated that, until the Emperor was found, the Council of Moffs would govern the galaxy."

Obi-wan's brow wrinkled. Now that was news to him – and disturbing news at that. The Council of Moffs was not exactly known for kind and fair leadership. Having that twisted party of sycophants and sadists hold the welfare of the galaxy in their hands was not a pleasant thought.

"Did the Senate take any action?" asked Obi-wan.

"What could we do?" Bail spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Palpatine had no use for us beyond ceremonial duties, but the Moffs…" He shook his head. "It's only a matter of time before they find some excuse to dissolve the democracy once and for all."

Obi-wan shook his head sadly. "I had long believed that, if Palpatine were to be eliminated, the galaxy would be much better off. It seems I was wrong."

Bail saw fit to change the subject. "You said Vader killed the Emperor. How under the stars did that come about?"

So Obi-wan found himself repeating that entire sordid tale over again – how a luckless Jedi Knight named Jax Pavan had come to Tatooine impersonating Anakin Skywalker, how Luke had stalked the man for over a week, how he and Vader had confronted Pavan at the same time, how Pavan had spirited Luke away in the hopes of training him… and how a brutal showdown between the rogue Jedi, Vader, and Palpatine had resulted in Jax's death, the Emperor's downfall, and Luke's realization that his father was something else entirely.

Bail's mouth was hanging open by the end of the story. "My stars… Luke must have been traumatized…"

"Far from it," Obi-wan replied amusedly. "On the contrary, he is delighted to be with his father again. He looks upon Vader with a child's pure vision and sees, not a fallen Jedi, but a father figure." He smiled sadly. "Would that we all had that gift."

Bail drew a deep breath. "I'm coming down there."

Obi-wan's smile faded. "I would not advise that, Bail. The situation on Corusant sounds delicate."

"My comrades can handle it without me," Bail insisted.

"Your wife is not in the best of health, Bail," Obi-wan tried again. "Shouldn't you remain there with her?"

"She has a touch of the flu, not White Plague," came the retort. "I'm coming to Tatooine, whether you like it or not."

Obi-wan gave a sharp nod, deciding it was time to negotiate. "Very well, Bail. I will look forward to seeing you and Leia again."

Bail scowled. "I'm not bringing Leia…"

"Whether your wife has the flu or the plague, leaving her alone with a rambunctious nine-year-old can hardly be fair."

"But Obi-wan, Leia on Tatooine! She would be petrified…"

"Either bring Leia, or don't come at all," Obi-wan said firmly. "She deserves to know that she has a brother… and a father."

Bail glared from the holo. The senator had never played games with Leia's mind, and it was common knowledge that he had adopted her as an infant. But that didn't change the fact that he saw her as his own daughter, loved her like his own flesh and blood… and had no desire to lose her to what he saw as a murderous beast. And naturally he would be extremely protective of her.

"Be very careful, Obi-wan," Bail said at last. "The situation on Tatooine sounds just as delicate as the situation here."

"I have it under control," he lied to assuage his friend's fears.

The holo faded.

Obi-wan sighed and packed the holoprojector. Bail was right. Things on Tatooine were just as complicated as matters on Corusant. And the outcome of affairs on both worlds would affect the entire galaxy in profound – and potentially devastating – ways.

_Break…_

Vader let his head fall against the headrest of his medical cot, closing his eyes, wincing at the lingering pain deep in his bones. Luke had fallen asleep just a few minutes ago, and he lay curled beside him like a nexu kitten against its mother, his head still on Vader's chest, just over his heart. And the boy's hand was nested in his black gauntlet, looking strangely pale and fragile in his grip.

_/My son… my flesh and blood…/_

How had this child survived? When Padme had… passed away, he had believed the child she carried had perished with her. But someone had managed to save the child, save Luke and take him to Tatooine. Strange. The Jedi weren't exactly known for supporting family values. And only a Jedi – or, specifically, Obi-wan – could have whisked Padme off of Mustafar and either helped her give birth or remove the child from her dead body.

But one had to wonder why…

The anger burned deep in his chest, stirred to life by his realization. Obi-wan had saved his son, but he couldn't be bothered to save Padme. Padme had meant nothing to him. She was just a politician to him – he'd said so before, hadn't he? She was only worthwhile as a quick ride to Mustafar… and as a mother to a Force-strong child.

He clenched his jaw. The Jedi wanted an apprentice, a malleable mind to twist to their desires. And when they discovered the child Padme carried was his, they jumped at the chance to claim him as their own. Son of the Chosen One, so strong in the Force he shone with it, suddenly dropping into the Jedi's hands with no guardian, no home… it had been too tempting an offer for them to pass up. After all, who better to overthrow Obi-wan's wayward apprentice than his own ignorant offspring? And so they had taken Luke for themselves, let Padme die, and pawned the child off on Luke's closest living relatives for them to wet-nurse until they deigned to train the boy.

But then, why hadn't they begun teaching him the way of the Force? Luke was powerful, but he had yet to move so much as a grain of sand with the Force. If Obi-wan and Yoda (he had to remain among the living; neither Vader nor the Death Squads had located him yet, and the diminutive Master was just too ornery to die of old age) truly wanted Luke as a true Jedi Apprentice, they would have begun his lessons years ago.

Unless Owen forbade it. He had to smile at that. They had certainly failed there. He didn't know his stepbrother very well, but from what he'd learned in his few encounters with him, Owen Lars was just as stubborn and intractable as his father had been. And after learning what had happened to Anakin, of course he'd be reluctant to let the Jedi train Luke. And now Luke was too old to begin the training, too exposed to fear and anger…

Luke stirred in his sleep, moaning and frowning. Vader gently brushed his thoughts and caught a glimpse of a nightmare… fire? Blades? Anger? Terror?

_/He's picking up on my thoughts/ _he realized. _/Even as young as he is, he can sense my anger./ _He struggled to quell his mounting rage, but it was a great effort – he had never been good at suppressing his emotions.

At last he tore himself away from any thought of the Jedi or their plans for Luke, and the boy's face relaxed in a smile as he sank into a deeper sleep. If he was this sensitive to his father's mental processes, the bond between them was stronger than he'd thought. Having to watch his every thought from now on was not a pleasant prospect… but it was worth it.

Stang, how he loved this child already! He hadn't loved in so long… he had given up all hope of ever feeling love again, had surrendered himself to the misery and constant fury of life as a servant of the Emperor… until this boy had stepped forward and offered him his trusting, unconditional, uncomplicated love. Love that had long been denied Vader. Love that had been as sweet as water to a man dying of thirst.

Love that the Jedi would have forbade them both had they had the chance.

Vader closed his hand around Luke's, making a promise to himself and to his son then and there. Luke had been without a proper father for too long. He didn't need the Jedi and Owen squabbling over his fate, using him as a bargaining chip or a tool of power. He needed someone truly concerned for his welfare, someone willing to give him a home and a family.

_/I swear to you, Luke, that I will die before I leave your side again. And I swear that you will not suffer the same fate I did./_

_Break…_

Biggs Darklighter sighed. "Do I have to go over this again?"

"We want to know everything," Owen Lars told him sternly. "What went on in Mr. Skywalker's house while you and Luke were there?"

"I already told you! Luke and I were playing spy again – which I'm not getting in trouble for if I'm telling this, right?" He eyed his father, who stood slightly behind Owen with an amused expression on his face.

"That was part of the deal," Dad acknowledged with a wry smile. "Keep talking."

"Right. We followed Mr. Skywalker into his house, Luke was going to jump out and ask if the guy was his dad, when Darth Vader marches in and starts going 'We meet again' and 'you won't escape this time' and all that. Then Luke jumps out and starts kicking him, shouts 'Run, you're my father' to Mr. Skywalker, then head-butts Vader in the gut and they took off."

"Is that all?" demanded Owen.

Here he squirmed uncomfortably. Meeting with Vader hadn't exactly been pleasant… "Vader asked why we were there… and he asked a lot of questions about Luke. Then he told me to get lost. Not in those words, but he meant them." He met Owen's gaze. "Can I go see Luke now?"

"Not yet," Owen replied, practically jumping on Biggs' request. "The doctor has a few more tests to run. Then we'll see."

"Can Luke still come to my house for a sleepover this weekend? We've been talking about it for two weeks…"

"We'll see." Owen turned to Dad. "Mr. Darklighter, I'm going to have to ask you if we can borrow that old hoverbike garage on your property. I've suddenly become the proud owner of two dewbacks and have no place to put them."

"No problem," Dad replied. "I'll have a few of my farmhands disassemble it and bring it over."

The two men walked out, leaving Biggs alone in the waiting area, kicking his feet and cradling his get-well present for Luke in his lap. He still didn't know what had happened to his friend after their little… encounter with the Dark Lord. His dad had told him something about an accident that had killed Mr. Skywalker and injured Luke, and Beru had hinted that Mr. Skywalker had been using a fake name and wasn't related to Luke at all, but that was it. No details about the supposed "accident," no explanation as to why that crazy wizard Ben Kenobi was suddenly back in Anchorhead, and no hint as to what exactly Mr. Lars had meant when he'd complained about "one more mouth to feed," though he suspected it had nothing to do with a pregnancy and everything to do with whatever had gone on in the past two days.

He lifted the present and eyed the title – the latest edition of "Mandalorian," the hottest holovid game in the galaxy. His Alderaani uncle had shipped it to him as a "just because" gift, and though he would have loved to claim it for himself, he decided Luke needed it more than he did. Maybe, though, they could get the doctor to set up a holo in Luke's room and they could play together…

Speaking of which, here came Luke's doctor right now, a pretty Chiss woman who was currently engaged in a hot debate with someone over a portable comm unit.

"No, I'm not joking! Why would I joke about something like this? I called you as soon as I could after he came in, it's not like I'm not busy!"

Biggs pretended to be engrossed with the back of the game box, keeping his ears tuned.

"Look, I'm sorry if me not dropping everything and calling the minute it happened put a hitch in your plans, but I had patients to see to… Overreacting? Don't give me that 'quit overreacting…' I'm not hysterical! What makes you think I'm hysterical?"

Biggs pressed the box to his lips to squash a laugh.

"YOU have problems! YOU HAVE PROBLEMS! I dare you to pull your fat butt out of your cozy little office on Corusant and come here to see what I have to put up with… I don't care how long it's been since you were last in your office… and whose fault is that? YOU chose this line of work! Don't give me that 'the Emperor would have killed me if I didn't accept the job' poodoo…"

The doctor's gaze moved to Biggs. He feigned awe over something on the back of the box, and she dismissed his presence and returned her attention to the comm.

"Well, I sure hope you have a backup plan, because with Target One gone and the Moffs in control… what did they have in mind… oh brother, not Fett, don't bring him into this mess… remember what happened the last time you hired him on? We're still paying off the debts… Yes, I understand… uh-huh… maybe… I'll have to check… I'll call you back when I know."

Biggs tried to keep a confused expression off his face, but it was hard. What was she talking about anyway? Who was Target One? What were the Moffs in control of? Was she really referring to the infamous Boba Fett, the best hunter in the galaxy? And what was she going to check out?

"Yes, you take care of yourself. Oh, by the way, you owe me fifty thousand. Yes, I kept track, I know how much it costs. A secure channel isn't cheap. Okay, out." She clicked the unit off and turned to Biggs, giving him a sweet smile.

Biggs pretended he hadn't heard a thing. "Can I go see Luke now?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "I don't see why not."

"Great!" He held up the game. "Can I bring this in?"

She laughed. "I'll bring in a holoprojector."

Biggs stood and followed the doctor into the back. "So what happened to Luke?"

She frowned down at him. "No one's told you?"

"No one tells us kids anything," Biggs complained.

She glanced about as if about to impart a great secret, then crouched before him. "Promise me you'll keep this between us. I could lose my medical license if this gets out."

He nodded. "Sure." It thrilled him to know she trusted him with… whatever this was.

"Your friend… was attacked by the Emperor."

Biggs gaped. "The EMPEROR?"

"Shh," she advised. "Yes, the Emperor. I don't know why, but he tried to kill your friend. But Darth Vader saved his life, and he's back in the medical center with Luke."

Biggs just stared at her. The Emperor here on Tatooine! And trying to fry Luke with Force lightning! How come everything cool happened to Luke anyhow? No one ever came chasing Biggs down, except maybe his older sister when she caught him reading her diary…

"But… why would the Emperor want to kill him? And why did Vader save him?"

She shook her head. "Perhaps it's best if you hear it from Luke."

Biggs swallowed hard and nervously followed the doctor into the back.


	3. Chapter 3

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I don't read EU, I'm not sure what Han Solo's "canon" past is, or even if it's been explored much in the books and other media. If there are discrepancies, I apologize._

**Chapter III**

Tarkin leaned a little over the Emperor's – no, _his _– desk as he addressed the Head of the Galactic Senate. "Do you not understand me, Lady Mothma? Must I repeat myself?"

"I heard you perfectly well," the Chandrilan senator replied evenly, the shock she had worn moments earlier now a brief memory. "I cannot understand, however, how you think the galaxy can be governed without the democracy provided by the Senate…"

"The Imperial governors have direct control over their systems now," Tarkin replied with a slight smile. "The Galactic Senate has proven to only be a hindrance, endlessly bickering over the issues while loyal citizens suffer. The governors will be able to act immediately and decisively now, without having to wait for the Senate's approval."

"I can't believe you're doing this," Mothma countered, shaking her head. "The people depend on the Senate…"

"For the entertainment they provide?" Tarkin laughed. "Lady Mothma, the Senate is little more than a political circus. And while you may consider it great fun, I assure you that I do not find the quagmire and bureaucracy of the Senate at all funny."

Tarkin's personal servant, a Mon Calamari, entered the room. "Captain Lodestar is here to see you, sir," he reported.

"Very good," Tarkin replied. "Show him in."

Mothma watched the alien go with a measure of distaste.

"You have a problem with my servant Ackbar, my lady?"

She turned back to Tarkin, face serene but eyes hard. "I have a problem with the fact that you seem to think of all non-humans as lesser beings."

"Oh come now, simply because I have a few aliens working for me…"

"Over a dozen," Mothma countered. "In fact, all the staff in your personal residence, excluding guards, are non-humans. They're not even servants, either – more like serfs or slaves."

"You say that," Tarkin said slyly, "when you have a servant yourself. Did a Wookie not accompany you into the palace today?"

"Chewbacca is my loyal bodyguard," she replied. "And he receives wages for his services."

Tarkin laughed. "What would a Wookie do with wages?"

Mothma gave him a look of disgust. "Back to the subject at hand, Tarkin. You cannot break up the Senate like this. The galaxy needs democracy. It needs freedom. The people have a right to be represented in the government."

"That is not your call, Lady Mothma. It is up to the Council of Moffs to decide that. And as Head of the Council, my word is law." He leaned back in his chair. "I expect all Senators to be back on their homeworlds within the week, or there will be arrests made."

Mothma opened her mouth to retort, but at that moment the doors to Tarkin's office opened to admit two guards, each clutching the arm of a ragged boy. Scrawny and dirty, with bruises and scratches of varying ages streaking his arms and face, he wore a stained tunic that might once have been white, a pair of too-big green trousers held up with a strip of rubber that passed as a belt, and boots that were caked with the filth of Corusant's fetid lower levels. All his clothes were crudely patched and covered with dirt, and stuck in the makeshift belt was a battered blaster – stolen, no doubt – and a crude shiv made by sharpening a chunk of durasteel and fixing it to a plastic handle. These Lodestar plucked from his belt, earning a vicious kick in the shin for his trouble.

"What is this?" demanded Tarkin, standing. What gave the Captain the right to drag this scum into his office?

"Found him with his hand in the pocket of a Grand Admiral, sir," Captain Lodestar replied. "Thought you might want to handle it, seeing as it happened on palace grounds."

The boy launched into an array of insults that made Mothma flush a brilliant shade of red.

"How did this trash make it onto government property!" demanded Tarkin. "Find that breach in security, Captain, and fix it!"

"What about the boy?" Lodestar inquired.

The child in question spat out a string of vulgarities that would have withered a microphone.

"Take him where all who break the law go," Tarkin replied. "To the security block."

"The security block?" repeated Mothma. "He's a child!"

"He's a thief," Tarkin replied dismissively. "He shall be punished as one."

"A detention block is no place for him," Mothma countered. "He would be torn to shreds."

"Then perhaps he would think twice about breaking the law…"

"Hey!" barked Lodestar. The boy had somehow slipped free of his grip, grabbed the knife from his hands, stabbed the other guard in the leg, and ducked out of the office.

"Stop him!" Tarkin ordered. "Use any measures you deem necessary!"

Lodestar charged after the boy. The other guard jerked the blade from his leg and limped out. The Imperial Guards had always been a notoriously tough breed, and they remained resilient as the newly christened Guards of the Moff.

Mothma whirled to face the Grand Moff. "For a child!"

"For a criminal guilty of theft, assault, and resisting arrest," Tarkin replied harshly. "It is not your concern, Mothma. If I were you, I'd be more concerned about finding new employment than worrying about street trash such as that."

Mothma stood and strode out, obviously seething.

Tarkin watched her go. The former Senator was a lovely lady, he thought. Such an elegant face… and as far as he knew, she was still single. Perhaps, with a little persuasion…

He swiveled his chair to face the enormous window, surveying the horizon where a blood-red sun glowed. The Emperor and meddlesome Senate were out of the way. The Council of Moffs had complete control now. All was right in his world.

And he would see to it that things remained that way. No taking chances – Palpatine or his insane lapdog Vader might return eventually. And neither would be pleased to find a usurper upon the Imperial throne. Rumor had it that both were dead… but as the old Outer-Rim adage went, don't believe it unless you have a body.

He smiled in satisfaction. Death Squads had worked well enough to eliminate the Jedi. Perhaps they could take on Sith as well.

It was time to send that "scout team."

_Break…_

In a decrepit cantina just two levels up from the slums of Corusant, in a room dark and hazy with death stick smoke and reeking of spice, sweat, intoxicating beverages of every variety, and blaster ozone from a recent altercation that had ended badly for both parties, a covert meeting was taking place.

"I can't stay long," Ackbar told the others, taking a seat at a table that was sticky with spilled drinks. "If Tarkin realizes I've snuck out, he'll have my head on a Force pike."

"We will be quick," Mothma assured him.

Apart from Tarkin's servant and Mothma, there were three others present. Chewbacca, a handsome ginger-furred Wookie and Mothma's personal bodyguard, let his blue-eyed gaze rake the establishment every few minutes, seeking anything out of the ordinary, any sign that they might be discovered or attacked. Captain Zevul Lodestar of the Guard of the Moff was present, minus his overly conspicuous red armor and clad in a hooded robe lest any of his men stumble in for a round and recognize him. And finally, seated directly between Chewie and Lodestar but not looking at all perturbed by his seating arrangement, was the young pickpocket, blaster and knife tucked securely in his belt again.

It wasn't much to start a rebellion against the Empire with, Mothma knew. But it was all they had at the moment.

"I appreciate all your cooperation in this matter, gentlemen," she stated. "I am only sorry nothing worthwhile came of it."

"On the contrary, we learned a great deal from it," Ackbar replied. "We learned that there's no way an assassin can get in through the back gate of the palace garden without discovery."

"Speaking of which, do I get my pay for that?" the boy asked, extending a grubby hand.

"Be patient, young Solo," Mothma told him. "You'll get your reward."

"Just call me Han," he replied. "Not 'young Solo.'"

She nodded. The boy was unusually mature, even cynical, for his twelve years… but then, a life on the streets would rob anyone of their innocence in a hurry. Born to Corellian-born space gypsies who had perished soon after arriving on Corusant, Han Solo had spent most of his life as an orphan, picking pockets and selling snippets of information to ward off starvation. At the moment his only loyalty to her cause was the promise of credits, but she suspected that, inside the stony walls he had constructed about himself, there lay a good heart.

"Lodestar, what have you learned about the situation on Tatooine?" Mothma inquired.

"The Emperor is definitely dead," the Captain replied. "Vader lives but was badly wounded in the battle with his master. Apparently a young boy was also injured in the fight, a farmer's child about nine. No word on what a boy was doing at the scene of the fight, but that's being investigated."

Mothma nodded. "Ackbar, has Tarkin taken any measures to locate the Emperor?"

"More than that," he replied in his distinctive gravelly voice. "He's sending a Death Squad to make sure the Emperor and Vader don't come back."

"What'll you folks have?" mumbled the Devaronian server, sounding half-drunk himself.

"Flameout, on the rocks," Lodestar requested.

"Corellian whiskey," Ackbar added.

Chewie barked his order.

"My friend will have the same as the Mon Calamari," Mothma translated. "Nothing for me, but some juri juice for the boy…"

"With a shot of Hutt vodka!" the boy interjected.

The Devaronian shuffled off with the order before Mothma could change it. Technically the legal drinking age on Corusant was sixteen, but dives like this paid no attention to that law or any other law that could cost them a potential credit.

"You're a little young to be drinking something as hard as Hutt vodka, aren't you?" asked Lodestar.

"Had worse," he replied casually, which was probably the truth.

Lodestar's comm beeped. He withdrew it, got up from the table, and retreated to a dim corner of the bar to take the call.

Mothma addressed the boy next. "What's the news on the street?"

"Money talks," he replied.

She sighed. "I'll increase your payment by ten percent."

"Twenty."

"Fifteen."

"Deal." The drinks arrived, and he paused to take a sip of his own. "People have pretty much figured out the Emperor's bit the dust, but everyone's scared that Vader's still out there. Bunch of hopped-up guys in the Dead Sector claim to have seen him organizing an army of street trash. In fact, everyone and their droid has a story about him, and they're all weird."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "Couple of panhandlers who work the Silver Tower district say Senator Organa skipped the planet."

Mothma frowned. Bail was another supporter of her newly organized resistance. Had he ducked out, afraid of the repercussions? Or was there another reason for his absence? "And they're certain of this?"

"Sure are. Left in a hurry, too. One says he saw him leaving the house with his daughter, but no wife. No idea where they're going."

"Thank you, Han."

"Tarkin has never liked Organa," Ackbar informed her. "It could be that Organa suspected a plot against his life and is leaving the planet to escape it."

"That is possible," Mothma acknowledged. "But we will make no assumptions until we hear from Organa again."

Lodestar returned to the table, a stunned look on his face. "That was my contact. There's a new development on Tatooine. Things are more complicated than we thought."

"What do you mean?"

He rubbed his temples as if trying to get rid of an oncoming headache. "The doctor at the medical center where Vader is at the moment just completed blood work on both the Dark Lord and the boy who was caught in the crossfire," he explained. "One of the tests they did was a DNA analysis. There's a definite link between the boy's genetic material and Vader's."

"A link?" Ackbar repeated, astonished.

"A strong link," Lodestar replied. "Too strong to be a distant or even a close relative. The only explanation is that the boy is Vader's offspring."

Mothma felt her jaw drop, and she snapped it shut quickly. Vader's offspring? Vader had a child? Had he fathered a son without the Emperor's knowledge? Had the boy played a hand in the Emperor's death?

Chewie gave a warning snarl. Two Imperial officers had just entered – drunk out of their minds, yes, but enough to sound an alarm if they happened to catch sight of their group.

"We'll speak more of this later," Mothma whispered. "Tomorrow, same time, my residence. I trust you will all be there?"

"I'll find a few errands to run," Ackbar replied.

"I have to, don't I?" Han muttered. "You haven't paid me yet."

"I'll be there," Lodestar promised. "And with your permission, I'd like to bring my associate..."

"We've been over this, Captain," Mothma sighed. "I don't want Fett involved in this…"

"He's the best," Lodestar countered. "And he's sworn to silence. He could be our greatest asset."

She relented, not having time to argue. "Careful on your way out, gentlemen."

_Break…_

Luke was back in his own bed, picking at the bandage where the doctor had just drawn blood, when Biggs entered.

"Hey Luke, you're all right!"

"Hey Biggs!" He raised his arm and high-fived his friend. "You finally came!"

"Hey, I brought you something," Biggs said excitedly, dropping a box in Luke's lap.

"Whoa, cool! 'Mandalorian VII: Jaster's Revenge!'" He ripped open the box and shook out the disk, then leaped out of bed. "Let's try it out!"

"Yeah, the doctor said she'd set up a holoprojector…"

While the two boys set up the game, Biggs demanded the entire story of Luke's adventure from him. Taking great relish in his newfound celebrity, he told an elaborate, gripping, and only slightly embellished tale of his abduction by Jax Pavan, his battle against the Tusken Raiders, Sandy's rescue, and the exciting showdown between the Emperor and Darth Vader. Of course, at the time none of it had been exciting, but now that it was the past and much of the horror had worn off, he realized what he'd been through was actually pretty cool.

"Why would Darth Vader kill the Emperor?" demanded Biggs. "I mean, c'mon, a guy doesn't just kill his boss for nothing."

"Well…" Luke cast a hesitant gaze at the curtain that blocked his father's bed from view. If he admitted to Biggs that he was the son of the Dark Lord, how would he react? Most everyone thought of Darth Vader as a killer and a psychopath. And Biggs was his friend. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his friend.

"C'mon, Luke, you can tell me anything."

Luke took a deep breath. "Darth Vader… well… he's my father."

Biggs just stared. Then he laughed sarcastically. "Okay, real funny. Not."

"No, I'm serious! He's my dad! That's why he fought the Emperor and chased Jax and me all over the Dune Sea! Even Uncle Owen admits it…"

"But you don't even look like him!"

"How do you know what he looks like?"

"Well… you're short! You're shorter than half the kids in Anchorhead! And he's huge!"

"That doesn't mean I'm not gonna grow…"

The curtain slid aside. Vader emerged from behind the hanging, limping slightly, his steps slow but steady.

Biggs gaped.

"Um, hi, Dad," Luke said sheepishly. "Didn't mean to wake you up."

"Couldn't sleep anyhow," Vader replied. His gaze rested on Biggs. "So this is your friend."

Biggs squeaked something Luke didn't catch.

"I will not bite you, Biggs," Vader assured him, lowering himself to the floor and taking a seat next to the two boys. "And to answer your question, yes, Luke is my son."

Biggs stared at Vader for a few minutes. Then he turned to stare at Luke. Finally, he uttered one simple word.

"Cool."

Luke felt almost deflated with relief. "Biggs and I're gonna play the new 'Mandalorian' game, Dad. Wanna watch?"

Vader shrugged – which was a weird sight, come to think of it. "I have nothing better to do."

"Too bad this game doesn't have three-player mode," Biggs noted as he activated the game.

"Perhaps I can fix that," Vader mused. "Let me see the game."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

Obi-wan Kenobi walked through the waiting area of the medical center and approached the Chiss doctor, who was just finishing up a call on her comm unit.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, hanging up.

"I am here to see Luke Skywalker," he replied.

"I'm sorry, but only family members are allowed…" she began.

He smiled slightly and raised his hand as if in a placatory gesture. "I can visit with Luke."

"You can visit with Luke," she repeated vaguely, and she motioned for him to follow her.

Actually, it wasn't Luke Obi-wan wanted to talk to just yet. Yes, he would have to visit with the boy eventually, but first he wanted a word with his father.

His smile vanished as he recalled that horrific day on Mustafar, when he and Anakin had parted ways… the anguished moment when he had dealt the blow that had crippled his apprentice and friend… the look of agony and absolute hatred Anakin had given him, an expression that sliced into Kenobi's heart to this day…

…_you were the Chosen One, Anakin! You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them…_

No, they had not parted on good terms at all. For the past few days Obi-wan had debated with himself, wondering if he should confront Vader at all. At last, he decided it was now or never. If Vader was willing to let the past go for the sake of his son and the Order, good and well. If he chose to cling to his anger and hatred… he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

When he entered the room, he was amused to see three boys sitting before the holoprojector, directing the Mandalorian characters on the holo through a beast-infested jungle. So Vader had softened his guard enough to indulge Luke and his friend in a video game. That was a promising sight.

"Aw no!" Luke threw his controller down. "I died again!"

"I keep telling you your hand blasters are no use against gundarks," Vader replied. "You need to switch to your flame thrower or use a grenade."

"But the grenades are the only thing that can break through walls," Biggs protested. "If he uses them all on gundarks, he can't get to the secret areas."

"Then if he wishes to access those areas, he should stock up on health units."

"That takes too long," complained Luke.

"You must learn patience, young Luke," advised Obi-wan.

All three of them turned, startled, to face him.

"Hi, Ben," greeted Luke.

Vader stared at Obi-wan for a long, tense moment, simmering with hot emotion. At last he found words. "Why are you here?"

"It is time we had a discussion, my young apprentice," was Obi-wan's simple reply.

Luke gave him a strange look. "What did he mean by that?"

"Never mind." Vader handed his controller to Luke and got to his feet. "You can take my place. I will be back shortly."

Luke's worried gaze followed them all the way as they retired to a small sitting room, where visitors and patients could talk in private. Obi-wan gave the boy a reassuring nod as he shut the door. The attachment that had already formed between father and son was remarkable indeed. That could be an asset to the Order or a liability, depending on how things turned out…

Vader folded his arms across his chestplate in an immediately defensive stance. "I should have known that you would have insinuated yourself in my son's life somehow."

"It was for his own protection," Obi-wan replied calmly, taking a seat in one of the two chairs in the visiting room. "If the Emperor had discovered you had a son, would he not have ordered his immediate death?"

Vader said nothing, but that silence spoke volumes. Obi-wan didn't need further confirmation – the Emperor HAD instructed Vader to kill the boy. Of course, if Vader had had any intention of carrying out that order, they would not now be standing here…

"How did Padme die?"

That question should not have surprised Obi-wan, but he hadn't been expecting it so soon. Nonetheless, he knew only the truth would satisfy Vader. "She died shortly after giving birth. An autopsy revealed nothing wrong physically, however."

His stance didn't change, but there was a measure of relief in Vader's voice when he spoke again. "The Emperor told me I had killed her in my anger."

Again, Obi-wan saw no recourse other than the truth, however painful it might be. "In a way, Anakin, you did. It is my belief that she died of a broken heart."

A deep-throated snarl rumbled from Vader's chest, and the other chair in the room began to vibrate ominously. "Do not say that."

"To say otherwise would be a lie."

"I did not kill Padme!" Vader hissed, shaking an accusatory fist at Obi-wan. "You did! If you had not stowed away aboard her ship, she never would have died!"

"Anakin…"

"DO NOT CALL ME ANAKIN!" The empty chair collapsed, crushed by the Force. Obi-wan didn't even blink, unimpressed by the spectacle.

"Very well," he relented. "Vader, not a day goes by when I do not regret the pain I caused you. Believe me, I would rather have cut off my own arm than strike you down. But at the time, I had no choice."

"You had a choice," Vader replied angrily. "The Jedi Order had a choice. And they chose not to help me save Padme. I went before Yoda seeking help, and he rejected me. Only Palpatine offered his aid. Had the Jedi relented in their archaic, all-important Code long enough to help me keep Padme from dying, I would not have joined the Sith."

Obi-wan shook his head. "You still elect not to take responsibility for your actions?"

Vader was trembling in anger and grief now. "What do you want of me, Obi-wan? You have already ruined my life! What more do you want? Why do you torment me further?"

"I only want to discuss the future of your son, Vader."

Vader stared, his anger beginning to ebb. "Luke?"

"You cannot deny that your son is strong in the Force, Vader. He has great potential, and he could easily become a great Jedi if given the proper training…"

"No." Vader's reply was immediate. "He will not be trained."

"The galaxy needs the Jedi, Vader," Obi-wan pressed. "Our numbers are few. In fact, as far as I know, Master Yoda and I are the last. If we cannot take on a protégé, a Padawan learner, we cannot hope to aid the galaxy in this, its time of great need."

Vader was silent a long moment, brooding. "So that's it, then," he said at last. "That is the reason you are here. You want me to give you my son."

"I want you to consent to let me – or Yoda – train him," Obi-wan replied evenly. "He is our last hope."

Vader shook his head. "No. I refuse. Luke will not suffer what I have – being ripped from his family and all he holds dear to serve an emotionless Order of so-called 'peace keepers' who will hail him as a Chosen One and expect him to fight their battles. I will not let you or Yoda or anyone else train him… except me."

Obi-wan sat up straight, startled. "You cannot hope to train him, Vader. You have spent too much time in the throes of the dark side…"

"And once down the dark path you start, forever will it dominate your destiny," Vader cut in, using Yoda's familiar quote. "So there is no hope for me, is there? No redemption? I will not be allowed to teach my own son? I am too broken and scarred, useless to the Jedi?"

"You are too quick to assume," Obi-wan replied. "If you were to let go of your hate, you would be allowed to rejoin the Order. Forgiveness would be extended. And you could provide your son with the guidance he needs. But the actual training would be left up to us."

Vader turned and stared at the corner, hands clutching his mask. "If I had known this would happen, if I had known then what I know now about the Order, I would never have allowed Qui-gon to take me away from home."

"You cannot change the past, Vader. You can only alter the course of things now, in the present. Please, for the good of your son and for the good of the galaxy, reconsider…"

"For the good of the galaxy, or the good of the Jedi Order?" Vader whirled. "It seems the Order cares about little other than its own needs and wants. At least when I joined the Sith, I acted to save another. The Order would not even do that."

"The Order could not help you save Padme because you had violated the Codes. Attachment and marriage are forbidden. And you knew that… and flouted the Code anyhow."

Vader did not reply, only glowered at him.

"There are reasons for the Codes, you know. And your attachment to Padme was a prime example of this. The Emperor could manipulate you through that attachment. He used Padme to gain you as a servant, to chain you to his side. And he could use the pain of losing her to fuel your anger, your connection to the dark side. Had you resisted the temptation, you would not be where you are now. And had she not cooperated in your disobedience…"

Something suddenly clamped around his neck. Stunned, he reached for his throat, straining to get a breath, but the iron grip only tightened.

"How dare you…" snarled Vader, his right fist clenched in the focusing gesture that now kept Obi-wan from breathing. "How dare you drag HER into this… how dare you accuse her…"

Fists pounded on the door, and Luke's anxious voice drifted into the room. The dark energies at work here had touched his awareness, and being as strong as he was, he had recognized at once that something was very wrong. Vader turned instinctively to the door, and for a heartbeat his grip on Obi-wan's neck loosened.

That was all the diversion he needed. He drew on the Force, gathered it within him, and thrust it at Vader. The Dark Lord staggered back and hit the opposite wall, then sank to the floor, and the constriction around Obi-wan's throat released instantly. He quickly assumed a defensive stance, wary lest Vader attack again…

"NOOOOOO!"

A small body flung itself over Vader's prone form, shielding his body with his own. Fierce blue eyes stared back at him, determined to fight to the end if it took that to protect his father.

Obi-wan felt his jaw drop.

"Let me up, Luke," Vader ordered. "He cannot hurt me anymore."

Luke stepped back and allowed his father to stand, but he kept between Obi-wan and Vader, as if expecting the Jedi to draw his saber and attack at any moment. So the bond between Vader and Luke was stronger than Obi-wan had expected. He had no idea if this bond was common among the children of Jedi (which had almost never happened in the history of the Order) or if it was the result of Vader being the Chosen One.

"Luke is my son," Vader said with a tone of finality, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I will train him in the ways of the Force. As father and son, we will serve the galaxy as it was meant to be served… with compassion, something the Jedi Order seems to lack."

Hurried footsteps, and the doctor sprinted into the room. She gasped when she saw the broken chair and the intense standoff between the Jedi and the Skywalkers.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded of Obi-wan, as if she'd never seen him before. "What happened in here? Oh, never mind that." She glared at him sternly. "Sir, I have to ask you to leave, or I'll call security."

Obi-wan gave her a polite nod. Then he turned to Vader. "You must do what you feel is right, of course. But for the good of your son, if for no one else, please reconsider." He turned and followed the doctor out.

_/He is still as arrogant and headstrong as ever/ _Obi-wan lamented as he left the medical center. _/I had thought that, in destroying the Emperor and saving his son, he had joined us. I can see I was mistaken. He is still Darth Vader, and he will drag Luke into the same black pit he now inhabits if nothing is done./_

He stared into the bright blue sky. Yoda would know of this very soon, he suspected. And doubtless the diminutive Jedi was on his way here to salvage the situation. Obi-wan was grateful for that – he had failed to change Vader's mind, and it would take the expertise of an older, wiser Jedi to reach the Dark Lord… or, failing that, to convince Luke to accompany them and accept the title of Jedi Padawan.

_Break…_

The gleaming space yacht settled near the Lars homestead, kicking up a fog of dust as it did so. Beru, who was filling Rocky and Sandy's feed bins at the moment, gave a hearty wave and ran for the house to alert her husband. Minutes later, two well-dressed figures disembarked and strode toward the farm, where Beru and Owen emerged.

Bail Organa had never met the Lars before, but he hoped their shared role as the caretakers of the Skywalker children might establish a connection.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, extending a hand. "Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan."

"Owen Lars," Owen returned, clasping the offered hand. Bail could feel a pattern of rough calluses against his skin as the moisture farmer gave his hand a welcoming shake. "This is my wife, Beru. Our nephew, Luke, is in the hospital at the moment, but we were just about to go pick him up and take him home."

"I see." Bail reached over and placed a hand on his adoptive daughter's shoulder. "This is my daughter, Leia."

"Hello, Mr. Lars," she greeted, holding out her own hand. Leia was a beautiful young girl, dressed in royal white with long trailing sleeves and a silver necklace and hair fillet set with brilliant red star garnets. Her hair was braided in two elaborate coifs on either side of her head, and for a girl of nine years old she carried herself with a surprising amount of dignity. Bail couldn't help beaming in pride. He was quite proud of Leia and could see her accomplishing great things someday.

Beru brightened upon seeing the girl. "Hello, Leia," she said warmly, crouching and shaking her hand as well. "Don't you look pretty."

"Thank you," she replied. Her gaze moved to Sandy and Rocky. "Nice animals. What do you call them?"

"The male is Rocky, and the female is Sandy," Owen replied. Then he shook his head and chuckled slightly. "Sorry, you meant what kind are they… they're dewbacks."

"Are they friendly?"

"Of course."

Leia grinned and held her hand flat, letting the great reptile smell her thoroughly before patting its muzzle.

"Leia, Owen and Beru are your uncle and aunt," Bail explained. "We're going to be visiting them for a few days."

She stared, surprised, at Owen and Beru – not shocked at the meanness of her relatives' lifestyle, but surprised that she had such relatives at all. She knew she was adopted, of course, but she had not been told that members of her biological family still lived.

Which, in Bail's opinion, was for the best regarding certain members of her family.

"Would you like to come inside, Leia?" invited Beru. "I've just baked tava cookies."

"Oh yes!" she gushed. "Those are my favorite back home. Can I help frost them?"

"Of course!" The two girls disappeared into the house, leaving the men free to talk.

"What's the news regarding Luke?" asked Bail.

"Physically, he's fully recovered," Owen replied. "But he's fixated with his father. He's convinced he can do no wrong."

Bail had suspected as much. "This isn't good at all. What does Obi-wan say of all this?"

Owen snorted. "Not much. Doesn't talk to me at all."

"And Vader? Have you spoken with him yet?"

Owen gave him a look that plainly said, "What do you think?"

"Well, Owen, all I can say is be careful," Bail replied. "I know from personal experience that Lord Vader is not one to be trifled with."

"I don't want him in my house," Owen said sternly. "Beru wants to take him in, but I don't like it at all. My gut tells me it's just asking for trouble."

"I'm inclined to agree," Bail replied. "But then again, he IS Luke's father… and Leia's. That counts for something."

Owen didn't speak for a long time. Finally, he turned to the senator.

"When are you planning on telling Leia who her father is?"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Bail, you can't hide it forever. She'll find out sooner or later anyhow, and then where will you be? The terrible parent for not telling her before." He spoke with a resentment that told Bail that he had learned that the hard way.

"Perhaps I should let her get used to the idea of an aunt and uncle first," Bail replied.

A speeder pulled up to the homestead, and Obi-wan exited the vehicle, a look of intense frustration on his face.

"What happened?" Owen demanded immediately.

"Yoda is on his way," Obi-wan replied. "There are many matters to be discussed."

"Such as?" prompted Bail.

"Luke and Vader have forged a remarkably strong bond," Obi-wan answered. "Strong enough that they instinctively seek to protect the other, regardless of the situation. I have never come across so strong a link."

"Why are you telling us this?" asked Owen. "Are you saying they need to be separated?"

"If it comes to that, we will separate them. For now, I would much rather try to get them to cooperate. At the moment, Vader absolutely refuses to let anyone other than himself train Luke."

Bail sucked in a breath. "That would be disastrous."

"What are you going to do?" demanded Owen.

"For the moment, nothing. Until Master Yoda arrives, we can only keep the peace… and make sure the children do not get caught in the crossfire."

_Break…_

The body of the Emperor had been baked to a crisp in the dry riverbed, a ghastly mummy that, truthfully, did not look much uglier than the living man had looked. The double suns had faded his black robes to a slate gray, and desert scavengers had stripped the corpse of anything even remotely usable – boots, belt, comm unit, even the lightsaber. In the center of his chest, where a heart would have been had he ever had one, something had punched out a neat hole the diameter of a credit chit.

Boba Fett stood, brushed his hands off on his pant legs as if wiping off the taint of the dead Sith, and spoke into his helmet comm.

"Located the Emperor's body in Beggar's Canyon, eight kilometers south of Anchorhead," he reported. "Cause of death appears to be a lightsaber wound. Not pretty."

"Is there anything else of interest in the vicinity?" inquired Lodestar.

"Affirmative. A second corpse is at the scene, lying in a rock pile. Too far gone to get an ID, but from the robes, it looks like a Jedi. No ID or other identifying objects – the Jawas got to him first."

"Stang," Lodestar replied. "Try to get a DNA sample."

Fett drew a vibroblade from a leg sheath and approached the corpse. A few wisps of hair still clung to the Jedi's desiccated scalp, and he deftly sheared a clump off and slid it into a canister.

"Is there anything else of interest?"

"Not here…" began Fett.

A resounding crack filled the canyon, and he hit the dirt as a blaster bolt whined over his head. Yanking his blaster from its holster, he returned fire, and the satisfying sound of a body striking the earth answered his shot.

From behind a jut of a rock formation emerged two stormtroopers, their armor painted with the black lightning bolts that signified members of the Imperial Death Squads. Fett wondered why they should be present, as they were normally only dispatched to eliminate Jedi. But his consideration was cut short as the troops opened fire upon him, and he ignited his jet pack and blasted upward to escape their fire.

From his vantage point he could see five Death Squad troopers – the two on the ground, the third one he had already shot, and two snipers crouched on ledges on either side of the canyon. They trained their weapons upward, prepared to shoot.

Fett pulled two detonators from his belt, keyed them on, and tossed one at each sniper. The troopers, trapped on their ledges, could make no move to escape as the bombs shattered the canyon walls and filled the air with dust and shards of rock.

When Fett touched down again, the entire canyon floor was covered with rocks. The explosion had killed the Death Squad… but it had also buried his evidence. Stang it all.

"Fett, what's going on over there?" demanded Lodestar. "What happened?"

"Death Squad," he barked. "Got them all. But the Jedi and Emperor are under three meters of stone now."

"Never mind that, we can have someone dig them up if we need to. I have a contact at the medical center at Anchorhead; take the Jedi DNA sample to her. Maybe she can identify that Jedi and give us some clue as to what's going on there."

Fett tucked the canister into his belt pouch and set off down the canyon to his waiting ship.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

Leia knew something was going on behind her back. Oh, it wasn't as if she'd caught the grownups whispering or sneaking about, but their every action practically _screamed _that they were hiding something. It was strange how adults thought kids were so oblivious or stupid that they couldn't figure out things occurring behind the scenes. Not that she had given them any indication otherwise – on the contrary, she knew the only way to find the real reason they were on Tatooine was to be quiet and pretend she didn't know what was going on.

Dad had never spoken about her biological family before. He had never lied about the fact that she was adopted, but he had never talked about her birth parents either. Which was fine – she was perfectly happy as a member of the Organa family. And now… now she suddenly had an aunt and uncle on an obscure world on the edge of the galaxy. It was going to take some getting used to.

Aunt Beru was quite nice, she decided, as the two of them slathered frosting onto the just-cooled tava cookies and made preparations for dinner. She was so full of funny stories and friendly advice regarding the workings of the kitchen, and she was patient with Leia's lack of experience with cooking. When she had confessed that all the food preparation at her father's house was done by droids, Beru had just smiled, pulled an extra apron out of a cabinet, and announced "Then there's no better time to learn than now, is there?"

An hour later, with cookies neatly arranged on plates and the entrée sizzling in the cooking reactor, she washed her hands and pushed her dress sleeves back down. There was something satisfying about a job well done, no matter how messy it had been… and especially when you could literally taste the fruits of your labors.

_Maybe I'll have to spend a little more time in the kitchen when we get home._

There were footsteps in the courtyard outside. Dad and Uncle Owen were still talking… about someone named Luke.

"Aunt Beru, who's Luke?" she asked.

Beru didn't look up from cutting vegetables for a salad. "He's our nephew. He's about your age. Have a cookie, tell me if they're any good."

Leia selected a small cookie, considering. "So that makes Luke my cousin?"

Beru didn't answer.

"Why is he in the hospital? Is he sick?"

"No dear, he was hurt in an accident," Beru replied. "He's fine now, though. Owen is going to pick him up before dinner."

Leia took a bite out of the cookie, savoring its spicy sweetness. Beru was being pretty vague in her answers. What was she hiding? And why?

"What kind of accident was it?" she pressed.

Beru slowly put the knife down and sighed. "I don't know if I should be telling you this without your father's permission, sweetheart…"

Her father? What did that have to do with this?

"…but I've never approved of hiding things from the children." She took a deep breath before going on. "Luke's father… Luke's father was hurt too. He was in the hospital too, and he's coming home with Luke."

Leia nodded. "So what's the problem?"

"Honey, Luke is a very sweet boy, and I don't want you jumping to conclusions when you meet him… or his father. Please, get to know him before you judge."

Leia frowned. "Of course I will. Why?"

Beru looked Leia in the eye. "Luke's father is a man named Anakin Skywalker… but most people now call him Darth Vader."

It was as if an icy hand had delved into her chest and squeezed her heart. Darth Vader… ever since she was little she'd had nightmares about him. She had only seen him twice, and then from a distance, but those two times were more than enough for her. And the day Dad had come home in a fearful sweat, telling how Vader had strangled an Imperial officer before the entire Senate without touching him…

"Darth Vader's coming here?" she asked fearfully.

Beru knelt before Leia and took her hands in hers. "Leia… people are funny. You can think they're black and evil and cold-hearted, and then… they'll do something that makes you stop and rethink what you think about them. I've always believed that everyone, no matter how badly they act, have some good in them…" She smiled. "I don't know if I'm making much sense."

Leia shook her head. "You're not, Aunt Beru."

Beru laughed. "A girl after my own heart. Always honest. To make a long story short, sweetheart, Darth Vader saved Luke's life. And he almost died to do it. He killed the Emperor to stop him from hurting Luke, even though it meant losing everything he had."

Leia felt her jaw drop. Vader had killed the Emperor? She'd heard rumors at school, of course, but to hear those rumors were factual…

"Why wouldn't my dad want me to hear this?" asked Leia.

"Because he wants to tell you for himself," came a stern voice from behind her.

Beru looked up, unapologetic. "She asked questions, Bail. You can't expect me to lie to her when she asks me point-blank…"

Bail cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Never mind, Beru. We'll talk later." His gaze rested on Leia, and his expression shifted from anger to nervous pain. "Leia, there's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" She hadn't seen him this emotional since Grandma Organa had died. There couldn't be… Mom couldn't have died while they were on Tatooine… she hadn't even been very sick when they'd left…

"Leia…" Organa placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "The kindest way to put this, Leia… is that you have a brother."

She stared at him. "A brother?"

"A twin brother. A brother named… Luke."

A brother. Luke was her brother, not her cousin. A brief, warm glow flared to life in her chest. She had a brother…

The glow died in an instant. That meant she had a father too…

"No," she moaned. "Daddy, no…"

"Leia, I wish I could change it…" Bail began.

She tore free from his grasp and bolted outside, never minding Beru's shout or Owen's attempt to block her path. She raced up the courtyard steps and to the stalls, where she flung herself into a corner and began sobbing. It wasn't possible! It wasn't true! Her father wasn't Darth Vader, it couldn't be… he was a monster, a killer… this was all a bad dream…

A huge muzzle nosed her anxiously, rumbling uneasily. Rocky had noticed the intruder in his stall and seemed oddly concerned for her. She wrapped her arms around the great square-nosed head and sobbed into his thick hide.

_Break…_

Luke and Biggs were so enthralled with the newest unlocked level of the "Mandalorian" game that neither of them noticed that Uncle Owen had entered the room. The farmer gave them a tolerant look, then turned to Vader, who was not participating but only watching from his seat on the edge of the bed.

_Stang, he's aged, _Vader thought. The last time he had seen Owen, the man had been a stubbled but fresh-faced youth, as yet unmarked by the harsh existence of Tatooine. Now his face was seamed and leathery from the suns, his hair unkempt and gray, his hands worn and calloused. Tatooine had not been kind to him. But the planet's harshness couldn't be blamed for all of it. Raising a Skywalker had its own stresses…

"Have a place set up for you near the garage," Owen said gruffly. "Not fancy, but comfortable."

Vader nodded. "Whatever you have will suit."

A mixture of emotions swirled across Owen's face – anger? Fear? Sorrow? It occurred to Vader that he knew so little about his stepbrother. This was a relative stranger (he had to smile grimly at that pun). A stranger who had raised his son in his absence, a stranger who had agreed to take him in and shelter him…

"You've changed a lot since we last talked," Owen said hesitantly.

"That is an understatement," Vader replied quietly.

Owen sat down on the bed beside him, not looking at him but staring at the back of Luke's head. "He's so much like you, you know. Sometimes I look into his eyes, and… and I see a Jedi Knight from long ago looking back. Do you have any idea how much that scares me?"

"Knowing what I have become, I can imagine."

"I didn't want him to know about you, you know. I thought that, if I raised him as a son, if I kept his mind and life on the farm, I could keep him from making some of those mistakes. That did as much good as trying to get an astromech to sing. He's got too much Skywalker in him. He's not a farmer… he's too much like you."

Vader didn't reply.

"Shmi would be proud of him, though. She would have loved him to pieces. From all the stories she told about you, he's just like you were at his age."

That was something else Vader hadn't ever considered before – Shmi had been HIS mother as well. He, too, had lost a mother when she had died at the hands of the Tusken Raiders.

"Owen," Vader told him, "thank you… for taking care of my son. It means… more than you can know."

Owen didn't look at him. "What made you do it, Anakin? What made you throw it all away? Your son, your wife… everything?"

Vader closed his eyes in pain. "I had no intention of throwing everything away. Quite the opposite. I clung to them. I desperately wanted a son, a child of my own. And when I had a vision of Padme dying in childbirth, I was willing to do anything – even give myself to Palpatine – to save her and our child." He clenched his fists. "I learned something about making a deal with a demon – the deal only works in the favor of the demon."

Owen gave Vader a startled look. "You joined the dark side to save Padme?"

"The Emperor… told me the Sith could keep people from dying," Vader replied softly, his voice catching. "He promised… to teach me… if I served him… he promised to help me save Padme…"

Owen shook his head. "I'd always assumed it was a power thing…" He reached over and clasped his stepbrother's hand. "Your mother… well, OUR mother… she wouldn't want me to hate you. She wouldn't want me to turn you out after all you've been through. I can't promise I won't still have issues…"

"It's okay, Owen." He felt a smile cross his lips for the first time today. "If you did not have issues, I would worry about you. But for now, a truce of peace… for the good of Luke."

Luke glanced up, as if just now aware that they had company. "Uncle Owen!" He dropped the controller and ran to embrace his uncle.

"Hey, Luke!" Owen exclaimed, returning the hug. "You must be feeling better."

"Are we going home now?"

"As soon as we get loaded up in the speeder," Owen replied. "Biggs, we'll drop you off at your place on the way. C'mon, let's go."

Vader helped the boys disconnect the game, smiling all the while. He had an unexpected ally in Owen, something he had never predicted. And the two of them had finally come to an understanding of sorts. Perhaps things would work out well for himself and Luke after all.

_Break…_

The battered freighter dropped to a shaky landing beside Bail Organa's ship, shedding a few pieces of plating in the process. As Obi-wan watched, a landing ramp was lowered, and a tiny form hobbled down from the ship, clutching a gnarled wooden cane and regarding his fellow Jedi with half-lidded green eyes. The moment his clawed feet left the ramp, the ship rose and streaked away.

"I was wondering how you would manage to get here, Master Yoda," Obi-wan noted amusedly.

"Providential it was that seeking a hiding place on Dagobah that smuggler was," Yoda replied, matching Kenobi's strides as they made their way to the house. "And an easy matter to convince him it was."

"And I trust he'll remember nothing of this?" asked Obi-wan.

Yoda chuckled mischievously. "How fares young Leia?"

Obi-wan sighed. "She ran off crying when she learned who her father was. We still haven't managed to talk her back into the house."

"And young Luke?"

"Owen just left to pick him and Vader up a few minutes ago."

Yoda frowned. "Strong is their bond in the Force. Felt anything of the sort I have not. Never before has this happened within the Jedi Order."

Obi-wan said nothing for a long time. Yoda had been a part of the order for centuries, and every Jedi had considered him the foremost authority on all matters of the Order. Obi-wan had once heard him comment that there was no problem so bizarre that he could not find a solution from his experience. If he hadn't seen a situation before, it was a remarkable situation indeed.

"Trained Luke must be," Yoda said at last. "At all costs."

"His father will not approve," Obi-wan replied. "He has insisted that only he be allowed to train his son."

Yoda shook his head, his ears quivering with the movement. "Disastrous that would be. Too corrupted by the Sith Vader has become. If train his son he did, lose both of them to the ways of the dark side we would."

"Funny," Obi-wan remarked. "That's what HE said. That we would accuse him of being too tainted by the dark side to mentor Luke." He leaned against a vaporator and watched the dual suns drop toward the heat-shimmering horizon. "It's not as if we're taking Luke from him; he would still be allowed to be a father, wouldn't he?"

"No."

Obi-wan turned to Yoda, startled. "No?"

"Hate the Jedi Vader does. And pass that hatred on to his son he will. As long as around his father Luke is, difficult training will be, if not impossible. With us Luke must come… and separated from his father he must be."

"I must disagree, Master Yoda," Obi-wan protested. "Luke needs his father in his life. Young boys need a father figure. I had Qui-gon, you had your Master, Anakin had… well, he really didn't have anyone, and look how he turned out. Luke needs that kind of role model…"

"Call Vader a role model you do?" Yoda raised an eyebrow.

"Well, he's better than nothing!"

A robed figure emerged from the homestead's courtyard. "Master Yoda?"

Yoda nodded at the newcomer. "Good to see you again, Senator Organa."

"And it is good to see you." He offered a bow. "I'm sure you know about our dilemma…"

"Decided we have that best for the Order and for Luke it will be if split up the Skywalkers we do," Yoda replied. "Necessary it is."

Bail nodded, relieved that he was not alone in his thinking. "If I may, I would like to offer my home to young Luke. He would be close to his sister and have access to schools…"

"He should stay here with his aunt and uncle," Obi-wan countered. "He needs some stability in his life. We can't uproot him from everything he holds dear."

But Yoda gave no ground. "Discouraged attachments should be, and learn this Luke must. A Jedi of the most serious mind must be, dedicated to the Force, to his studies. Live with Bail he shall."

"Owen won't approve," Obi-wan reminded him.

"He wants what's best for his nephew," Bail replied. "I'll try to get him to understand that this is best for him."

This latest development only disturbed Obi-wan. How could they simply rip Luke away from everything he knew and loved? They had done that with Anakin, and while it was largely Anakin's choice to turn on the Order, separating him from those he loved had contributed greatly to his fall. What if Luke reacted to the loss of his family the same way Anakin had? And how in the galaxy would Vader react when he learned of their plans? For that matter, just how was Yoda planning on convincing Vader to turn Luke over to their care?

"Displeased you are, Obi-wan." Yoda leaned on his cane. "What feel you?"

"I feel this is a bad idea," he replied. "First, Luke is not a Jedi youngling in the care of the Temple; he is a young boy with family ties. Severing those ties completely will shatter him. Second, I don't think you've taken Vader into account. How do you expect him to go along with this?"

Bail winced. "Good point. Who's to say he won't kill us all when he finds out…"

"Forget you do that a powerful Imperial leader he is no longer," Yoda pointed out. "Seek him two factions do – the Council of Moffs, to destroy him… and a resistance against the Empire, to capture him at all costs."

"You're not suggesting…" Obi-wan began, stunned.

"Seek his death we will not," Yoda replied. "But if in the custody of the resistance he is, then a danger to us he will not be. Bail, inform your friends of this you will. The location of the Lars' homestead give them. Send troops they must – underestimate Vader they should not."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

Luke never thought he would be thinking this, but it was good to be home.

He leaped out of the speeder before it had fully stopped, smiling broadly. Just a few days ago he'd thought he'd never see the homestead again. Funny – he'd always thought this place boring and thought he'd be glad to go. But now, he felt nothing but relief at being back home.

"C'mon, Dad, I'll show you around!" he urged.

Vader climbed out of the speeder. "Not much has changed, has it?"

"You mean you've been here before?"

Vader nodded. "Before you were born, Luke. It was… when your grandmother died."

Luke's mouth gaped open. His father and mother had been mysterious entities to him before, but his grandparents were practically nonexistent. "I had a Grandma Skywalker?"

"Yes, Luke," Owen replied quietly. "She was killed by Tusken Raiders about ten years ago." He gestured vaguely at a patch of land beyond the homestead. "We buried her there."

Luke stared. "I was living next to Grandma Skywalker all this time? How come you never told me about her? Why is everything Skywalker such a secret?"

Owen sighed. "Luke, I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want you to know your father had become… Vader. I was afraid that you would be hurt… I'm sorry."

Luke opened his mouth to retort.

"Luke, there is much you don't know about me," Vader told him. "Your uncle had his reasons for keeping our relationship secret. Trust him. He loves you and wants what is best for you. As do I." He paused, as if wondering what to say next. "I will explain everything soon, but for now, please do not hate your uncle for hiding your past from you."

He wanted to say no, but the promise of an explanation was good enough for now. "Okay." Then a strange thought struck him. "What about Grandpa Skywalker? Is he buried out there too? Or is he still alive somewhere?"

Owen gave Vader a curious look, as if wondering about the answer himself. Vader was silent, taken aback by Luke's question for some reason.

"That, too, will be explained soon," Vader replied.

That didn't make Luke any happier, but he didn't argue. If he made a fuss, he might never get an explanation. "Okay."

"Good. Now…" Vader's gaze swept the farm. "I was promised a grand tour of the homestead…"

Vader's gaze rested upon something Luke hadn't noticed until now – a space yacht. The ship was a far cry from any of the rusted, patched clunkers he'd always seen buzzing to and from Mos Eisley. It was all sweeping curves and gleaming steel, speaking of elegance and grace without sacrificing speed and agility. Luke almost pinched himself to be sure of what he saw. Stars, how he'd love to fly a ship like that someday!

"That's Bail Organa's ship," Vader said in a hard voice.

"Stang it all," Owen snapped. "I was going to explain that…"

"Explain what?" Vader demanded.

Owen shifted uncomfortably. "Both Bail and Kenobi were there when Luke's mother… passed away," he explained. "I still don't know all the details… but to make a long story short, Luke wasn't the only child born that day. She was carrying twins."

Luke's jaw dropped.

"Twins?" Vader repeated, stunned. "Luke has a sibling?"

Owen nodded. "Kenobi and that dwarf what's-his-face decided to split the twins up for some reason. Bail took one, and Kenobi brought Luke here for us to raise. When Bail heard you'd come back into Luke's life, he decided to come out… and he brought Luke's twin."

Luke finally caught on. "I have a brother?" he gushed.

"No," Owen corrected. "You have a sister."

"A _sister?_" He couldn't keep a distasteful expression off his face. A brother would have been cool, but what good was a sister? Biggs had a sister, and she was a whiny stuck-up pain in the neck, always goggling over stupid young men and screaming at them for messing with her stuff. And all the other Anchorhead girls were the same – except for Cami, but she was almost one of the boys, so she didn't really count.

"A sister," Owen repeated. "And she's still a little shocked over suddenly having a brother, so please be kind to her."

"Leia Organa," Vader realized. "Why didn't I sense it earlier?" He shook his head as if in disbelief. "She looks so much like Padme…"

"But from what I've seen and heard, she has your attitude, Anakin," Owen said with a smile.

Something emerged from the shed that was currently serving as a stall for the dewbacks… a figure in white. It was a girl about Luke's age, with braided brown hair and brown eyes. She'd evidently been crying, for her eyes were red and a streak of damp dust marred each cheek. When she saw Vader, a mixture of emotions flashed across her face – fear, hatred, apprehension, confusion.

"Is that her?" asked Luke.

Owen nodded. "That's Leia. Go say hi to her."

Luke hesitated, digging his toe in the dirt.

"Go on, it won't kill you!" Owen urged.

Luke stepped forward and offered her his hand. "Hi there."

She eyed him warily.

"I'm Luke Skywalker," he tried again. "And… I guess I'm your brother."

She cautiously extended a hand. "I'm Leia Organa. I… guess… I'm your sister."

They shook briefly, then dropped their arms. Awkward silence reigned for several minutes. What was one supposed to say to a sister they hadn't met for nine years? A sister he'd never known existed…

"So," he said at last, "did you just find out about Dad too?"

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Her brown eyes blazed, and she glared over his shoulder at Vader. "I already have a dad. Bail Organa's my dad. I don't need another dad – especially not Darth Vader."

"Hey, don't insult Dad!" Luke replied instantly. "He's not that bad…"

"Not that bad? He kills people all the time! Don't you have the Holonet out here?"

He reeled at that insult. "I watch the news, it's not like I'm stupid! But he's not like that anymore! He saved my life! He's my dad!"

"Well, you can have him, for all I care!"

"Fine, I'll take him!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"FINE!" She folded her arms and glowered at him.

"Dumb girl," huffed Luke, stomping toward the house.

"Boys are jerks," Leia muttered, storming back to the space yacht.

Owen and Vader exchanged a long look, then shook their heads in exasperation. "Well, the first meeting was a big success," Owen remarked sarcastically.

_Break…_

Vader knew something was being plotted behind his back the moment he entered the house to find Yoda seated at the table, his seat boosted upward with a few cushions to put him above table level.

"Yoda?" he demanded, halting in his tracks. "You're still ALIVE?"

"_Master _Yoda, Vader," corrected Yoda, mouth quirking in a small grin at Vader's shock.

"Who's Yoda?" asked Leia.

"Forget that," muttered Luke. "WHAT'S Yoda?"

"A Jedi Master," Obi-wan replied to both of them as he helped Beru pull the entrée from the cooking reactor. "He was a leader of the Jedi Order in the days of the Republic and a great and cunning warrior."

"Great warrior," humphed Yoda dismissively. "Wars not make one great."

Vader's gaze moved from Yoda to Obi-wan, then back to Yoda. Stang it all, both of them! He didn't know which was worse – the company of the traitorous Master who had crippled him on Mustafar, or the presence of the code-bound dwarf who had made his life and training difficult almost from the moment he'd set foot in the Jedi Temple. Where had they been hiding all these years anyhow? And why did they drag themselves out of hiding now…

The realization hit him like a blow to the gut. Luke. They were here for his son…

"Wow, he must be a hundred," Luke breathed, awed.

"Nine hundred years old I am, young Skywalker," Yoda told him, nodding. "And respect your elders you should. No gawking, please."

Luke snapped his jaw shut, though he couldn't keep from murmuring "Nine hundred… whoa…"

"Luke, pull your head out of the clouds and help me with the table," Owen ordered. He was dragging a second table into the room to allow everyone a place to sit. The tiny dining room would be very crowded this evening.

"Everyone sit down," urged Beru, infusing as much cheer into her voice as she could. "Supper's going to get cold. Master Yoda, is there anything I can get for you? Kenobi said you don't eat meat…"

"Sufficient for me the salad is," Yoda replied.

"Very well. Vader, is there something I can do for you…"

"I dine alone," Vader replied shortly.

She took in his helmet and chest controls. "I see. Well, you don't have to eat with us, but I'd appreciate it if you at least joined us."

Reluctantly Vader seated himself between Luke and Owen. Leia sat across the table from him, pointedly looking at everything but him as she speared a piece of meat. No one spoke as plates were filled and dishes past around.

That gave Vader plenty of time to think. Obi-wan was up to his old tricks again… but to what end? Yoda was most likely here to help him talk Vader into letting them train Luke, but what about Bail and Leia? Why were they here? He figured that, if they had intended to train her as well as Luke, they would have put her in Yoda's care or sent her to live with her brother, to ensure a Jedi watched over each child. But no, they had given her to a senator and left her generally unsupervised…

A senator. So they had planned to have his children overthrow him on two fronts, had they? His son a Jedi, to avenge the Order, and his daughter a political activist, to avenge the Republic. That made perfect sense. But now that their father was back in their lives, their plan had been disrupted… and they were working to accelerate it as much as possible. After all, if they truly wanted Leia to be reunited with her biological father, why weren't they urging her to curb her hatred? No, they _wanted _her to hate him, _wanted _to take her away from him again… and they sought to take Luke away too.

_It may be too late to reclaim Leia, though I'll certainly try. But I will not lose Luke, _he vowed. _Not again. I die first…_

"Leia," Bail said at last, "I think you have something to say to Luke."

She looked up from her plate, flushing. "Yes… I'm sorry for yelling at you, Luke. And for calling you a jerk."

Luke swallowed a mouthful of bread. "That's okay."

Vader lifted a boot and nudged his son slightly under the table.

"Oh, and I'm sorry for calling you a dumb girl." He shot his father a sideways glare.

"I accept your apology," she replied.

Bail smiled. "It's good to finally meet you, Luke. Obi-wan speaks highly of you."

Luke grunted a reply and applied himself to his plate.

"I hope to get to know you better," Bail tried again.

Luke mumbled something noncommittal. To a nine-year-old boy, filling the stomach took precedence over everything else.

Obi-wan set his utensils down. "Now that we are all together, it is time we discussed the future of the Skywalkers. The family is reunited, yes… but there are still issues to be worked out."

Owen looked up. "What issues?"

"The interests of the children," Obi-wan replied, giving Yoda a look heavy with meaning. Vader had to wonder what that was about.

"What does that mean?" asked Leia, looking concerned.

"You won't be leaving me, Leia," Bail assured her.

"I thought that was decided," Owen said pointedly. "Vader stays here with us, close to his son. And Leia's still free to visit…"

"Discuss Luke's training we must," Yoda cut in.

"Training?" repeated Luke, bewildered.

"Master Yoda, is this the best time to discuss this, with the children around…" began Bail.

"We have gone over this already," Vader snarled. "I will permit no one but myself to train Luke. End of discussion."

"Ill-advised that is," Yoda retorted. "Trained by a Jedi Luke must be. Not by a Sith."

"I have renounced my claim to the Sith Order," Vader countered.

"Then you are a Jedi?" asked Obi-wan hopefully.

Vader glared at him. "No. I will not rejoin the Jedi. I have had my fill of their self-righteous, emotion-condemning ways. Luke will learn the ways of the Force, but not of the Jedi."

Luke shoved his empty plate away. "Done, gonna go outside," he said in an uncomfortable rush, bolting from the table.

"Be back in before the suns go down!" Owen shouted at the boy's back.

Leia also abandoned her plate, though hers was still half-full. "I'm not hungry, Daddy. May I be excused?"

Bail held a hand against her forehead. "You may be coming down with something. Why don't you go lay down for awhile?"

She nodded and left the room.

Once the children had gone, Yoda resumed speaking. "Trained the boy should be, before too exposed to the dark side he is. Powerful he is in the Force, and dangerous that power can be if uncontrolled and unguided it remains. For Luke's safety, if for nothing else, agree to this you must, Vader."

"I will agree to nothing of the kind," Vader replied angrily. "You took my children from me once. I will not allow you to retake them." His gaze moved to Bail, who had paled at the comment. "Leia may be beyond my reach already, but I will not lose Luke again. I intend to be a father to him. I will not have the Order rip him from my side to satisfy their own desires."

"You misunderstand our intentions," Obi-wan replied. "We only want to help Luke…"

"And you only wanted to help Padme when you stowed away aboard her ship," Vader thundered, shooting to his feet so swiftly he upended his chair with an unpleasant clatter. "You only wanted to help me when you sliced your blade through my legs and arm. You only wanted to help the galaxy when you placed yourself on a pedestal above them, a power that held untold dominion over them and could not be questioned or challenged!"

"Sit down!" hissed Owen desperately.

"I have had enough of the Jedi Order's 'help,'" Vader continued, ignoring his stepbrother. "If you really need a savior for your Order, scour the orphanages. Doubtless you can find at least one Force-strong child to induct into your Order… one without _prior attachments_." The last he grated out in a bitter tone before whirling and storming away.

Had he remained within earshot, he would have been deeply disturbed by Yoda's next words – "Tried to change his mind we did and we couldn't. Regretful it is. Do this the hard way we must…"

_Break…_

A shot at Darth Vader. This Mothma had never anticipated. She had hoped, in the absence of the Emperor, to garner support for the resistance, perhaps even strike at a few of the Moffs. But an opportunity to capture Vader…

The suns of Tatooine had dipped below the horizon and drenched the parched landscape in dusk, providing much-needed cover for herself and her "troops," if they could be called that. She adjusted her macroscope to the night-vision setting and focused it upon the farmer's homestead just a kilometer ahead. Owen Lars was not a proud man, content with his old but reliable machines and his plain but comfortable home, never setting his sights farther than the next harvest. Quite the opposite of the ambitious, menacing, black-clad Sith that now supposedly resided within his home… as a brother, if their contact's account was to be believed.

Zevul Lodestar lowered his scope. "This should be it. The doctor gave us this location." He shot Mothma a wry look. "Let's just hope Vader's brother got the mellow side of the gene pool."

Behind them, Chewbacca and Han readied their own weapons, keeping a wary eye on the homestead. The rest of their fighters, twenty-five ragtag humans and humanoids, crouched low to the sands. Their forces were comprised of former Senate Guards, hired mercenaries, Royal Guards who had switched sides along with their captain, and survivors of the Empire's brutal strike against the alien uprising on Corusant two years ago. A rough collection, but all they had at the moment. She could only hope they could hold their own against a Dark Lord.

"Thank the stars Yoda is still alive," Mothma murmured. "And that he is on our side. Perhaps, with his aid, we have a chance."

"I don't know, my lady," Zevul said unsurely. "Something about this whole operation unsettles me. I get the feeling that this Yoda character has his own itinerary."

"He is helping us," she countered. "That is all that counts. And may I remind you that you brought Boba Fett into this, and he most definitely has his own itinerary."

Zevul's gaze flickered to the bounty hunter, who stood perfectly at ease beside Han. "Okay, I concede that point." He looked at Mothma again. "What about Vader's son? What's to become of him?"

"Yoda says he has that handled," Mothma replied. "Myself, I can only speculate. But he has lived with family up until now. I don't see why that would change."

"Are we just gonna stand here?" demanded Han. "I thought we were going after Vader, not collecting dust here."

"Patience, child," she told him. "You will face Vader soon enough. Too soon, in fact."

"I'm not a child," Han snapped. "I'm twelve. And I'd rather go out fighting than freeze to death here on this rock."

Fett glowered down at the boy. "Lodestar, why do we need this kid?" he grated.

"Don't look at me, she hired him on," Zevul replied, pointing at Mothma.

A distant shout cut across the rapidly cooling night air. "Luke, I'm shutting down the power! Come inside!"

"Coming, Uncle Owen!" came the youthful reply.

The lights outside the homestead flicked out. The signal.

Mothma raised her hand, the order to advance. Her fighters fanned out to encircle the homestead.

_Break…_

Obi-wan crept through the darkened garage, careful to avoid making any sound. It would do no good to awaken anyone, especially Master Yoda. And with eight people packed into a home that normally sheltered three, it was almost impossible to move without waking someone.

Why was he doing this anyhow? Part of him screamed that his actions tonight would betray the Order, that Yoda's wisdom in this matter was to be trusted implicitly, that Vader was truly a threat to his son. But another part of him knew that to separate father and son now would do greater harm than good. Yes, the Order had to live on. Yes, it would be dangerous for Vader to train Luke. Yes, Vader was still incredibly dangerous.

And yet, if Luke could recognize the good in his father, couldn't he also draw that good out?

Vader's door was locked. Obi-wan delved into the Force, reached into the workings of the lock, and nudged it open. He had to warn Vader at once, before the resistance Yoda had spoken of arrived. And he had to trust that Vader would believe him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

"Hey, you awake?"

Luke rolled over to find his sister – stang, it was still so weird to think that he had a sister – kneeling beside his bed and staring at him.

"Yeah, I'm awake," he replied quietly, propping himself up on one elbow. "Let's keep quiet. Dad's asleep in the next room, and the walls are pretty thin here."

She nodded, obviously not eager to awaken a Sith. "I just wanted to say… I'm sorry for being so… so…"

"Stuck-up?" he offered. "Arrogant? Full of it?"

"Hey!" She scowled at him, then a slight smile erased the expression. "I'm sorry for acting so haughty. I'm just not used to all this, I guess." She gestured around the bedroom, bare save Luke's bed, a small dresser, and a few model ships suspended from the ceiling. "Or to having family members all the way out here."

"That's okay. I guess I'm still not used to having a princess for a sister."

She reached into the folds of her nightrobe. "I thought you might want to see this."

"See what?" he asked, sliding closer to the edge of the bed for a look.

Leia turned her palm upward to reveal a small flat image. It showed a lovely woman from the shoulders up, a gentle smile on her face, wavy brown hair cascading down her back and deep brown eyes aglow with warmth.

"Who is she?" breathed Luke. "She's beautiful."

"That's my mother," Leia replied. "Our mother now." She offered the image to Luke. "You can hold it if you want."

He took it from her gingerly, as if it were made of glass. "Dad told me Mom was dead."

"Yeah. My dad said she died when I was just a baby." She gave a wistful smile. "But it's odd. Sometimes… I feel like I remember her. I see her smiling, laughing… but she always seems sad, too."

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall ever having seen this woman anywhere, even in dreams or fantasies. Nothing registered. His mother was a complete stranger to him.

"I don't remember her at all," he complained.

Leia took the image back from him. "My dad says I look just like her. You know what that means?"

"What?"

"It means you have Darth Vader's looks." She cocked her head to one side, as if imagining Luke in the helmet and trappings of the Dark Lord. "Funny, I never thought he'd have blue eyes…"

"I wish Dad would tell me a little about Mom." Luke folded his arms and rested his chin on them. "Or about Grandma and Grandpa, or why he left me… or us, I guess. He always says 'I'll tell you later.' I don't want to wait; I want to know now!"

"You heard the grownups talking," Leia replied, frowning. "They're wanting you to become a Jedi or something. My guess is that he's waiting for things to calm down."

Luke had heard the discussion, and frankly, it annoyed him that no one was asking him what he wanted. Sure, he'd heard of the Jedi, what kid hadn't? And what kid hadn't fantasized about wielding a lightsaber and knocking enemies down with a single thought? But the more he heard Obi-wan and Yoda insist that he HAD to be trained, that he HAD to become a Jedi, the more he resisted the idea. If they had asked, that would have been one thing…

A weird snap-hiss came from the room next door.

Luke and Leia stared at each other, dead silent. They both recognized that sound – an igniting lightsaber. Then Leia climbed onto the bed, and together they pressed their ears against the wall, intent on whatever was going on in there.

"Put it away, Anakin," came Obi-wan's calm voice. "I did not come in here intending to kill you. There are less suicidal ways of doing that…"

"What do you want now?" snarled Vader in a deadly tone.

"Anakin, what I am about to tell you is not pleasant, and I would not blame you if you hated me for delivering the news. But you must trust me…"

"Spit it out," ordered Vader, "before I change my mind about sparing you."

"Anakin…" A deep intake of breath. "Master Yoda has contacted the resistance against the Empire. Rebel soldiers are on their way as we speak to capture you."

Luke felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Why should I believe you?" Vader hissed. "Is this a plot of yours? Will you have me flee the planet and leave Luke behind for you to train?"

"No, Anakin," Obi-wan replied softly. "I tell you this that you may have the chance to escape. I wronged you once. I won't fail you again."

Silence. Then, finally, Vader asked "Why are you doing this?"

"Because, though I disagree with the path you have chosen, neither can I agree to Master Yoda's plan. He would have Luke separated, not only from you, but from his aunt and uncle. It is his opinion that any emotional attachments are detrimental to a Jedi. But I disagree. On the contrary, it will do far more harm than good to separate Luke from his family now… even if his family includes a former Sith."

Again silence. Leia's eyes were wide. Luke's head spun dizzily with Obi-wan's startling words. They couldn't do this to him! They couldn't take him away from his dad! Not now when he had just found him again! Not now when things finally seemed to be going so right!

_/Dad, please trust him/ _he pleaded silently. _/Please don't let them take you away from me. I just got you back. I can't let you leave again./_

At long last, a metallic whoosh cut through the silence as Vader extinguished his saber. "I vowed to kill you, Obi-wan, for what you did to me," he said heavily. "But I see now that I am in your debt. I cannot kill you now."

"You will never be in my debt, Anakin, for I am forever in your debt for what I did to you," Obi-wan replied. "I suggest you take one of the dewbacks to Mos Eisley, for they're harder to track than landspeeders. Charter the first reliable transport off the planet. I will be close behind as soon as possible with Luke."

"Luke comes with me," Vader said fiercely. "I still don't trust you enough to put my son's life in your hands."

Obi-wan's silence suggested he wasn't too pleased with that, but he relented. "I will go wake Luke and tell him to pack…"

Luke banged a fist against the wall. "Don't need to wake me up!" he said loud enough for them to hear. "I can be packed in five minutes!"

Vader seemed neither surprised nor upset that Luke had been eavesdropping. "Take only the bare essentials, Luke. I will meet you at the stables. Obi-wan, inform Owen of what is going on."

"I will."

Luke jumped off the bed and began throwing things into a pack, not paying much attention to what went inside.

"Luke, what are you doing?" Leia asked, still looking stunned at what had just transpired.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Luke shot back, flinging a fistful of undergarments and a model skyhopper into his bag. "I'm going with Dad. My REAL dad this time. I'm not gonna let that Yoda-thing's friends capture him…"

"But the Moffs are after Vader too!" she retorted. "And if the resistance doesn't catch him, THEY will! And even if they don't, you'll still be running for the rest of your life…"

"I'd rather run with my dad than stand and watch while he gets dragged away… and out of my life forever." The bag was now stuffed to bursting, and the sleeve to a wrinkled pair of pajamas still dangled and flopped out as he swung it over his shoulder. "You're lucky, Leia. You've always had a dad, even if he's not your real dad. I've never had that until now. And I'm not gonna give it up." He gave her a dead serious look. "If they were after YOUR dad, you'd do the same, right?"

She frowned, then nodded. "But I've never had a brother until now either. And I don't want to lose him."

Luke hesitated, at a loss for words.

"Here," she said at last, and she handed back the holo of their mother. "You can keep it."

He carefully took the holo from him and tucked it into his pocket. "Thanks," he managed.

She stepped forward and embraced him. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will," he promised.

A wicked crack sliced through the night, and both children froze as an ominous command reached their ears.

"We have the house surrounded! Lord Darth Vader, come out and surrender! You can't hide in there forever!"

_Break…_

Mothma knelt in the rapidly cooling desert sands and leveled her blaster at the main entrance to the homestead. Their party had by now tightly encircled the Lars' home, cutting off all possible escape routes, and every weapon was trained on the homestead should Vader come out fighting. Of course, she highly doubted that a party of less than thirty would faze the Dark Lord. For now, they would bank on the hope that Vader was still too weakened by his duel with the Emperor to successfully battle her men.

On either side of the Senator, Chewbacca and Zevul kept her covered, their bodies rock-hard with the tension. Han and Fett stood at attention slightly behind, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. All around her, her swiftly assembled strike team waited nervously for some sign that Vader had heard their order, or even cared…

A light flicked on, illuminating a tall cloaked figure in the front doorway.

"AAARGH!" screeched a Zabrak soldier, letting a shot fly. The figure dove to the side as the shot went wide, striking the lintel.

"Watch it!" the man demanded, raising his hands as if to deflect further shots. "You could've killed me!"

"Owen Lars," Mothma informed the man, motioning for the Zabrak to step back, "we know you shelter Lord Vader under your roof. We ask that you turn him over to us. If you refuse to comply, we will enter your home and take him by force, something we do not wish to do… but will if you make it necessary."

"Now just a scorched minute," Owen snapped, taking a few more steps toward her and brushing furiously at his robes as if the blaster shot had tainted them somehow. "What business do you have threatening to barge into my home? I thought only the Empire had that right…"

"We understand that you may harbor sympathies toward the Empire," Mothma replied, "seeing as your brother was once one of its highest leaders. But even you cannot deny that he is responsible for a great deal of evil, and that he must be made to pay for his crimes somehow."

"First of all, ma'am, I have no such sympathies," growled Owen. "Don't love the Empire, I hate it. Second, Vader's not my brother. He's my stepbrother. There's a big difference there. And third, what makes you so special that you can decide who gets punished and who doesn't? Seems to me there's an Empire full of more likely candidates…"

"Owen Lars, do not make this harder than it needs to be," advised Mothma. "Turn over your stepbrother, and we will leave. Refuse one more time, and we will enter and take him."

Owen opened his mouth to retort, but a hand on his shoulder stayed his tongue.

"Lady Mothma," Obi-wan greeted, nodding as he stepped around Owen.

"Obi-wan Kenobi," Mothma replied, much relieved. So another Jedi besides Yoda lived. They had another ally, and a powerful one to boot. "What brings you to Tatooine?"

"That is a long tale," Obi-wan replied. "One that will have to wait for a later date." He swept the horizon with one hand. "I'm afraid, Mothma, that if it is Darth Vader you seek, you are wasting your time. He departed this afternoon without warning."

Mothma's brow furrowed. "Departed?"

"Departed," the Jedi replied. "Perhaps he sensed your coming; perhaps he has sources on this planet. I cannot say. But you will not find him here, I'm afraid."

Zevul swore colorfully in both Basic and Huttese. "We blew hours on a wild mynock chase…"

Chewbacca barked helpfully. Mothma listened carefully, then smiled and addressed Obi-wan confidently.

"A clever ruse, Master Kenobi. But Vader's son is still here. We heard his uncle calling him inside this evening. And I highly doubt that Vader would have left without his son."

Obi-wan's smile faded. He gave Mothma a grim look, then turned and murmured something to Owen. She tried to catch the words, but they were lost to her. What was Obi-wan playing at anyhow? Vader had killed the Jedi and single-handedly destroyed the Order Obi-wan had served for so long. He had no reason to care for the man's welfare. Surely he would try to help them in their goal, not seek to thwart them…

"The garage!" shouted Han, pointing to two dark figures slinking out the back. "They're coming out of the garage!"

The soldiers, distracted by the appearance of Obi-wan, opened fire. The taller of the two figures whirled and raised a bar of brilliant crimson light, shouting for the other to run to the stables. Blaster fire bounced wildly in all directions, most of it plunging into the sands or streaking harmlessly into the sky.

Mothma gritted her teeth and edged closer, continuing to fire upon the Dark Lord. Despite the intense situation they had found themselves in, she could not help but feel a measure of awe at Vader's prowess in battle. He wielded his laser sword with a graceful ease, batting aside blaster bolts as easily as a child snatched snowflakes from the air. The blazing arcs of his saber and the strobing flashes of the soldiers' fire gave his sable armor a terrible red cast, as if he'd been bathed in fire or blood. It was an apt description, she thought.

Slowly, to Mothma's growing horror, the Dark Lord backed away from his attackers, toward the stables where his son was now hauling two dewbacks forward by their reins. They were losing their quarry! This journey would be for nothing!

Vader slammed a hand forward, and half the men started in surprise as their weapons were knocked from their hands. He gave a brutal gesture, and the remaining soldiers lost their blasters as well. Apparently satisfied that the danger had been temporarily eliminated, Vader turned toward the waiting mounts even as the soldiers scrambled to recover their weapons.

"Leaving so soon, Lord Vader?"

Rebels, farmer, Jedi, Sith, and boy alike froze as a diminutive green form shuffled out of the stable, leaning heavily on a cane and giving Vader a calculating look.

_Break…_

Vader had never crossed blades with Yoda before, not even in a practice duel. When younger, he had once thought himself the Master's equal; now he knew better, knew that even General Grievous would not have been a match for Yoda. Even the Emperor had once informed him that he should count himself lucky that it had been Kenobi and not Yoda who had fought him at Mustafare, for he would never have returned from that contest. He would not delude himself – he had little hope of winning this duel.

But duel he would. For the life of his son lay on the line, and at the moment, he valued Luke more than his own life.

"Hoped to avoid this I did," Yoda said gravely, pulling his robe back to reveal the gleaming hilt of his lightsaber.

"Will you deprive me of all I love?" Vader demanded, raising his saber to point at Yoda like an accusatory finger. "The Jedi Order took everything from me – my mother, my love, my children… and now you will rip Luke from my side again. How cold are you, Master Yoda, to keep kicking a wounded man while he is down?"

Yoda removed his weapon from his belt and ignited it, creating an aura of green light about him. "Accuse me you should not, Vader. Accuse the Order you should not. Only yourself you have to blame for your pain. Warned you were about forming attachments…"

"'A Jedi shall not know discouragement, nor despair, nor love,'" Vader quoted sarcastically. "A Jedi shall not know what it is to be human then, right? A Jedi must be seen as a god, infallible, incapable of making a mistake, instead of as a fellow being with faults and flaws… but with hopes and passions, the same as everyone else?" He raised his weapon in a battle stance. "I refuse to apologize for being a flawed, emotional being, Master Yoda. And I refuse to give up my attachment to my son."

"Then jeopardize his training you will?"

"Who says I wanted to be trained?" Luke shot back, clenching his fists at his sides. "If being a Jedi means I have to lose my dad again, I don't want to be one."

Yoda fixed his gaze upon Luke. "Luke, strong are you in the Force. Yours the chance is to use the Force to do much good, to restore order to the galaxy. But learn to use the Force you must, or consume you it will."

"You will not seduce my son with your promises, old one," snarled Vader, and he struck.

Yoda blocked the move with ease, and he retaliated with a furious cyclone of blows that Vader was hard-pressed to outmaneuver. Despite the Jedi Master's age, he could still fight like a youth, leaping and spinning and constantly surprising his opponent with unexpected maneuvers. Gritting his teeth, Vader parried and sidestepped every blow, but with each strike he lost more ground, edging farther and farther from Luke… and closer and closer to the clutches of Lady Mothma's resistance fighters.

"Master Yoda!" Obi-wan's voice carried over the din of crashing sabers. "Don't do this! You'll only push Luke farther away!"

Yoda did not reply. Instead, he sprang and lunged, and Vader drew back sharply, but not before the Jedi's weapon had slashed through the shoulder armor and scorched his flesh. Hissing in pain, Vader slashed wildly, catching Yoda's arm, but the blade only tasted cloth and air as his opponent nimbly dodged the attack.

"Get 'em, Dad!" screamed Luke. "You can whip him! Do it!"

Luke's encouragements stirred Vader to action. New strength surged through his veins, and in desperation he extended the Force, grasping a heap of junked labor droids just outside the garage and flinging them at Yoda. Luke gave a triumphant whoop.

The metallic hail never touched the Master – he removed one clawed hand from the grip of his saber and pushed to the side, and the projectiles halted in midair before hurtling back at Vader. Caught by surprise, he was unable to block and was mercilessly pummeled by his own assault. A huge power droid slammed into the small of his back, knocking him to his hands and knees…

"DAD!"

The next few seconds were a terrible blur – a flash of emerald light, a ghastly sizzle, a scream of extreme terror and pain, cries of surprise and outrage… a searing pain throughout his entire body that had nothing to do with being struck by machinery…

His worst fears were realized when he drew himself straight. Lying in the sands before him, smoke rising from a deep ugly wound in his chest, was his son.

_/No…/_

He gripped Luke's shoulder, shaking furiously to rouse him, but there was no response. Luke was as limp as a doll, face expressionless, skin bone-white. He could have easily been asleep were it not for the evil black line where Yoda's saber had bit into the flesh…

His heart burning with agony, he lifted his son, cradling him in his arms. Throwing his head back, he released a wild, anguished, animal cry to the black skies, venting all his pain and fear and love in a scream that seemed to rock the very stars.

_/My son… you tried to save me… you would have sacrificed yourself to save me from Yoda…/_

The reply was weak, very weak, but there. _/You saved me… from the Emperor… I had to do the same…/_

_/Oh Luke, I would have rather died a thousand deaths at Yoda's hand than let you be hurt./_

Those gathered here were in chaos now. Leia was screaming hysterically, Bail and Beru were demanding to know what was going on, Mothma's men were shouting incoherently, someone was arguing quite angrily with the Chandrilan senator…

Owen was at Vader's side, shaking him back to his senses.

"Give him to me," Owen urged, voice rough with worry. "Please, brother, give him to me. We have to take him to the hospital now."

Too dazed to resist, he allowed his stepbrother to take Luke out of his arms. Numbly he got to his feet to follow… and his gaze rested upon Yoda. For the first time in Vader's memory, the Jedi Master looked positively shocked.

"Vader…" he murmured, "intended to hurt Luke I never did…"

"I will never forgive you for this," Vader hissed, letting his rage and pain suffuse every word. "Never."

"Anakin," murmured Obi-wan, taking Vader's arm. "Let's go. We don't have much time. And your son needs you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII**

The shuttle _Amalthea _emerged from hyperspace and prepared to dock aboard the Stardestroyer _Apocalypse, _flanked by a dozen TIE fighters and gleaming eerily in the light of Tatooine's dual suns. The TIEs swooped away like birds scattering before a bird of prey as the _Amalthea _was swallowed up by the larger ship. It folded its wings like a reclining dragon and settled with unexpected grace upon the glossy hangar floor.

Grand Moff Tarkin strode down the landing ramp before it had even finished lowering. He had reasons for his haste. He had lost two Death Squads in the quest to ensure Vader and the Emperor were out of the picture. The first had met some nameless doom on the planet's surface; the second had been incinerated in space before they had even touched the planet. Someone or something of import was here, and he hated it with a passion.

He strode briskly toward the bridge, intent on his goal – that of finding the highest-ranking officer aboard the _Apocalypse _and ordering him to prepare a battalion of troops. Whatever was going on here, be it the Emperor's insanity, Vader's coup, or a fledgling Rebellion, he intended to nip it in the bud immediately. And if it took every soldier in the Imperial Army and every ship in the Starfleet, so be it.

He would not be thwarted now, in his moment of glory.

_Break…_

Had the saber cut a centimeter deeper, it would have easily seared heart tissue and quite possibly killed Luke instantly. As it was, he was in grave danger. Flesh, skin, sternum, and ribs had been burned and blackened by the accidental strike, and at its deepest point the slash had penetrated the protective cage of the ribs and burned lung tissue. It was a relatively small burn, granted, but enough to hamper his breathing and add yet another complication to his already serious condition.

Vader never left his son's side, keeping a desperate vigil by his side, afraid that if he left for a moment he would lose him. He held Luke's hand, stroked his hair, murmured comfort and pleaded forgiveness, and wept unseen tears behind his mask. Had it been in his power, he would have exchanged places with Luke in a heartbeat. The blade had been meant for him, not for his son. He should have suffered, not Luke. Luke had no part in who his father had become…

Luke moaned in fevered sleep and turned his head from side to side, sweat standing out on his creased forehead. The pain… Vader could feel his pain, like a thousand ragged knives tearing at his chest every time he inhaled…

"Can you not do something for the pain?" he demanded.

The doctor shook her head, her blue-skinned face weary with concern. "I've already given him as much painkiller as I dare. It takes time to work…" A trickle of anger leaked into her expression. "If I had known this was how they would use my information, to hurt an innocent child, I would never have helped Mothma's harebrained resistance."

He looked up, shocked. "You HELPED with this?"

"I certainly didn't wield a blaster last night," she replied quietly, "but I good as well handed them a map with your location emblazoned on it. When you and Luke first came in, both injured in a similar manner, I had my suspicions. When I did routine blood tests, I decided to allay my suspicion by running a DNA analysis. And when I cross-checked the results, it confirmed what I had suspected." She gazed at Luke's sleeping face, half-covered by a respiration mask and screwed up in pain. "Zevul Lodestar's always been a close friend of mine. And when he asked me to let him know if I heard anything that might be of use to the resistance, I agreed. I owed him… and so I told him."

Vader turned back to Luke, cradling his fragile-boned hand in both of his steel, black-gloved hands. "I should hate you for that. I should be angry. But I can't be angry. I've spent so many years simply hating, raging, exacting vengeance for my pain. No more." The last came out a grieved moan. "No more."

"If you need anything, let me know," she offered. "Even if it's just someone to talk to." And she was gone.

Vader was still for a long moment, lost in his own thoughts. How many years ago had he held his mother as the life had bled out of her? How many years ago had he screamed his wrath and agony upon learning of Padme's death? Was the Force bound and determined to see him torn cruelly from all he loved? Was this the will of the Force, having its revenge for his betrayal?

_/Whatever you have to do to me, take it out on me/ _he thought bitterly. _/Don't hurt my son. Don't make him pay for my crimes. He is innocent. No blood stains his hands. If you must have blood in payment for blood shed, take my own heart's blood. Don't take my son./_

"This was not the will of the Force."

Anger began to bubble to the surface at the tone of Obi-wan's voice. "And is this my fault as well, Master? Did I practically run a saber through my own son's chest? Do I deserve this as much as I deserve everything else?"

"I have never said you deserved your pain, nor will you ever hear me say that," Obi-wan replied forcefully. "And while I will not acquit you of all wrongdoing, nor will I place the entire blame on you. Everyone had a hand in this madness save the children."

The anger died instantly. "I'm sorry, Master," he choked. "I'm so sorry. I just…"

Obi-wan sat down beside Vader and placed an arm around him. "My Padawan, you have suffered far more than any of the Jedi of the Order could even begin to understand. Of course your emotions are running high right now."

"No," Vader replied, shaking his head. "You're right. I have done this to myself. If I had simply agreed to let you train Luke, Yoda would never have resorted to these measures… and Luke would not lie here in pain…"

"I will say again, Anakin, that this is not entirely your fault. On the contrary, if Yoda and I had simply been a little more lenient and not wished to see you separated from Luke, this never would have happened."

He fell into his Master's arms, sobbing, a child again wanting to be assured that everything would be all right. Obi-wan was still a moment, stunned, then embraced his apprentice.

"Anakin," he said quietly, "I am so sorry… for everything…"

"I can't lose him, Obi-wan," Vader said in a tight voice. "Part of me died with Padme. If Luke dies as well… it will kill me."

"You cannot let that happen, my Padawan," Obi-wan replied. "The bond you and Luke share is strong, yes, and if he does indeed die, I cannot say how it will affect you. But you cannot let it kill you. For you have a daughter… and she needs you."

Vader gave a bitter laugh. "She doesn't need me. She has a father already – one who doesn't constantly land her in the hospital. What need does she have of a man she hates?"

"She may hate you, Vader, but that does not mean she doesn't need you." He released Vader and gently pushed him away to look into the lenses of his mask. "I know this ordeal has hurt you as much as it has hurt Luke, but you will heal, believe me. It may take time, but these wounds will close. You have a family now, and they will help you. Trust them. Let them help you."

Vader was silent for a long minute. "This is a change in tune," he said at last. "I thought the Jedi had no use for family and attachments."

Obi-wan smiled. "The Jedi are also not above teaching… or at least they shouldn't be."

The doctor returned, accompanied by the Lars… and Leia.

"How is he?" Owen inquired, his normally gruff voice softened by worry.

"Stable," she replied. "The wound is fairly deep, however. We can treat it with bacta now, but somewhere down the road he's going to need reconstructive surgery on the damaged bones. Right now the immediate danger is infection, especially in his burned lung, so as soon as his father gives approval, I want him in a bacta tank."

"I'll give it," Vader said quickly. "If it will help Luke, I will agree to anything."

"Very well." She turned to Owen and Beru. "I'll give you five minutes to see him. Then I must ask you to leave."

Owen nodded in mute agreement, and the doctor, satisfied, left to ready the bacta tank.

Leia sat down on the side of the bed opposite Vader, concern for her brother etched into every line of her features. "What happened to him? Who did this? And why?" Her gaze moved guiltily toward Vader.

"Bail never told you?" asked Owen, surprised.

"No. He just said Luke had been hurt while trying to escape with… with his dad."

"True, but short of the full facts," Obi-wan replied. "And contrary to what I think you are assuming, it was not Vader's saber that dealt this wound."

She gasped. "Yoda? _Yoda _hurt him?"

"It was an accident," Obi-wan replied.

"All the same, it could have been avoided," Owen said curtly. "I don't know what in blazes Yoda thought he was trying to accomplish – he KNEW Luke would sooner give up piloting than let anything come between him and his father! He KNEW Luke would do anything to protect him, even throw himself into the path of a lightsaber…"

"Enough!" barked Vader. "We know what happened. And I would rather not revisit it."

Leia took Luke's hand in hers, gazing down at it as if determined to memorize every crease and callous and scar. "I heard Yoda wanted Luke to be a Jedi… but I didn't think he'd go as far as trying to kill his father to do it."

"He is your father as well, Leia," Obi-wan corrected.

She stiffened at that comment.

"Leia, I know it is difficult to accept right now," Obi-wan told her gently. "But you, Luke, and Anakin are a family now. And you need each other – perhaps more than you know."

She met Vader's gaze, unsure.

"I know I have done nothing worthy of the title of 'father,'" Vader told her softly. "But I am willing to try. I understand your hatred, and Force knows I am deserving of it. I only ask that you give me a trial run."

Her eyes lowered. "I won't live with you. I'm not ready for that. But I guess I can give you a chance. I can't call you Dad… not yet… but I'll try not to hate you."

He could have wept with relief. Perhaps his daughter was not yet lost to him.

"What happens now?" asked Beru. "The Rebels are watching the hospital. The minute Vader tries to leave, he'll be ambushed."

"At the moment, we do nothing," Obi-wan replied. "Luke needs a great deal of care yet. Once he is well enough to leave the hospital… we'll handle that nest of gundarks when we come to it." He stood. "For now, I must have words with Master Yoda. He has much to answer for."

_Break…_

Outside the medical center, a verbal free-for-all had erupted between Mon Mothma, Bail Organa, and Zevul Lodestar, with Fett, Han, and Chewie looking on as a reluctant audience.

"For the last time, Captain, I had no idea this was going to happen!" Mothma snapped, her stores of patience tapped out. "I knew he might attempt to run, but I never thought he'd take the boy with him…"

"And why wouldn't he?" retorted Zevul, shaking a fist at Mothma. "Stang it all, Mothma, you can be cool and logical about this, but you don't have children! I know if some religious fanatic wanted to take one of MY boys away from me, I'd be screaming bloody murder! And yeah, I'd probably have taken off with my kids too!" He pointed accusingly at a nearby speeder, where Master Yoda had retired, presumably to meditate. "I warned you that the creature had his own itinerary, didn't I? And I was right, wasn't I?"

"I had no idea Yoda wanted Vader' son! I thought he only wanted to aid our cause against the Empire…"

"If the Jedi had wanted to aid our cause against the Empire, they would have stepped out of hiding years ago. The only reason they came forward now was because they had a chance to recruit a naïve Force-strong kid into their Order… and if they could get a little sweet revenge on Lord Vader at the same time, so much the better."

"Don't you dare demonize the Order," Bail said fiercely. "They have been to the depths of Hell and back. They have suffered more at Vader's hand than anyone else in the galaxy. Do you blame them for wanting some justice? Or for trying to expand their ranks?"

Zevul inhaled deeply, and when his voice resumed it had lost much of its volume but none of its intensity. "No, I don't blame them for wanting… justice, as you call it. I don't blame anyone for _wanting _anything, be it credits, power, property, or even vengeance. In fact, I would think the Order mad for not wanting some measure of revenge. It's when it goes beyond the _wanting _revenge and progresses to actually obtaining it that I have a problem."

Bail sighed. "It's too late for I-told-you-sos," he said resignedly. "All we can do now is salvage what we can of the situation."

Mothma nodded. "Boba Fett, you have ascertained that the Emperor is indeed dead, correct?"

"Yes," he rasped.

"And an Imperial Death Squad ambushed you, correct?"

"Yes."

She nodded again. "We, too, ran afoul of an Imperial arrival during our journey here. It is obvious to me that someone wants to ensure that the Emperor and Vader do not return."

"Yeah, real obvious." Han rolled his eyes sarcastically.

Chewie growled and gently cuffed the boy, who shot him a dirty look.

"What do we do?" asked Zevul. "Our men are already pretty shaken from witnessing the duel last night. I doubt they can take on whatever forces the Moffs plan to send."

"We wait," Mothma replied simply.

"Wait for what, the Imps to fry us?" demanded Han.

"For things to progress on their own," she clarified. "The Imperials want Vader for the same reason we do – to ensure he does not rise to power again. Our men failed to apprehend him, but that does not mean our mission here must be a complete failure. If we lay low and let events run their course, our situation may resolve itself."

Bail stared at her, open-mouthed. "You want the Empire to eliminate him."

She did not reply.

"You scare me, Mothma," Zevul said in a deadly quiet tone. "Quite frankly, you scare the hell out of me…"

"Zevul," she interrupted, "I despise what we must do, believe me. But it is the only way. Vader is a dangerous man, father or not. You saw it last night – he would have killed all of us, Yoda included, without a second thought in order to accomplish his goal. Such a man is only a danger to the galaxy. I am afraid there is no recourse but to have the threat he represents neutralized."

Fett snorted as if choking back laughter. In a voice so low only Han and Chewie could hear, he remarked "And she calls _me_ soulless."

Before the conversation could progress, Obi-wan exited the med center, looking exhausted and several years older.

"How is the boy?" asked Mothma.

"Luke is in stable condition," he reported. "They were preparing to treat him with bacta when I left. He should recover." His gaze glided over the gathered Rebels, and the slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth indicated he sensed the tension, but he said nothing of it. "I must speak with Master Yoda."

"I am here." The dwarven Jedi had climbed out of the speeder and was making his way toward Obi-wan, pausing only to nod at Chewie in greeting. "Luke will recover?"

"He will, given time," Obi-wan replied in a guarded tone.

"Good." Yoda paused, considering. "And Vader?"

Obi-wan was silent, seeking words that would speak the truth but not stir anger. "Hurt. He is not taking this well."

Yoda closed his eyes and shook his head gravely. "A tragedy, this is. Suffered much Luke has because of his father…"

That caught Obi-wan completely off guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Yoda opened his eyes and regarded Obi-wan matter-of-factly. "If agreed to the training he had, dueled we would have not. And injured Luke would not be."

Obi-wan was too stunned to reply for a few seconds, but he managed to regain his voice. "Wait a moment, Master. It takes two people to engage in a duel. And as I recall, you initiated the fight…"

"For the good of Luke it was. Trained he must be at all costs…"

"For the good of Luke? What good does it do a boy to see his own father cut down before his very eyes? What good does it do to drag him away from those he loves and force him to fulfill a destiny he doesn't want?"

"Warned you the same about Anakin I did, and look what he has wrought…"

"Why is everything Anakin's fault? I won't lie and say he is innocent, but he does not bear the entire blame! What about us? What about all the times we dismissed his visions of his mother in pain as mere nightmares? What about all the times we hushed him when he expressed homesickness, our only words of comfort for him that threadbare adage 'a Jedi shall not know attachment?' What about all the times he came forward pleading for help, and we only pushed him aside?"

Yoda opened his mouth to reply, but Obi-wan cut him off – the first time in living memory that anyone had dared so. "If we had only relented, Master – accommodated to him somehow – he would never have turned to the Emperor for help. If we had only listened to him when he wanted help, we would have sensed something wrong." He pointed at the med center. "And if we had only tried to understand his bond with his son, rather than attempt to break it, Luke would never have been injured.

"But now it's too late. The difficult apprentice we pushed aside too many times has turned against us, I fear permanently. The Order that thought itself above and beyond reproach is all but destroyed. And Luke Skywalker, the one who would have helped us restore the Order, will never join us now, not after being struck down by the very one who would have taught him the ways of the Jedi. You sentenced us to extinction, Master. I hope you're happy."

Yoda only stared at the younger Master. "Finished are you?"

"For the moment," Obi-wan replied, though there was much more he wanted to say.

"Good." He jabbed his cane into the sand. "Right you are that mistakes the Order has made. But deal with that later we must. Arisen an emergency has."

"What emergency?" demanded Zevul suspiciously.

Yoda raised a clawed finger skyward. "Arrived Grand Moff Tarkin has. Preparing to land his troops are, to finish what Mothma started." He met Obi-wan's gaze, his stare intense. "Decide which side you are on you must, Obi-wan."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX**

Luke woke up, completely disoriented. Every bone in his body felt like it was made of ultradense material. His eyelids felt glued down, and his chest hurt every time he inhaled. Everything was totally unfamiliar to him – the antiseptic smells, the hushed chatter, the white everywhere he looked…

"Easy does it, Owen," Dad was saying. "I don't want his wounds aggravated."

"I'll be careful," Owen assured him. "Besides, he won't feel a thing. Luke could sleep through a bantha stampede…"

Luke opened his eyes fully. Uncle Owen and Dad were bent over him, and before he could react they had hoisted him out of bed and into Vader's arms. He yelped as the burned skin of his chest protested the movement.

"I'm sorry, Luke," Vader told him. "But we have to move you."

"What's going on?" he moaned. "Where am I? Where's Aunt Beru?"

"In the hospital," Owen replied. "Aunt Beru and Leia are back at the house. The doctor just finished your bacta treatment for your burn."

Memory returned with a rush, and a sickening jolt filled him. Yoda had tried to kill his dad… he'd tried to stop him… something had seared his chest…

"Dad, Yoda's not going to hurt you, is he?" he moaned.

"I don't know, son," Vader replied.

"The Rebels have fled to Beggar's Canyon to hide," Obi-wan reported. "The Imperial shuttle has landed just outside Anchorhead, and troops are en route. If we're to get you away from here, we have to hurry."

"And pray the Force is with us," Owen added.

"I can walk," insisted Luke.

"You're in no shape to walk," Vader retorted.

They left the room and entered the lobby, Luke in his father's arms, Owen and Obi-wan on either side of Vader as if serving as bodyguards. No one made any move to stop their progress. Did they not care that a Sith was apparently abducting a patient, or were Obi-wan and Vader shielding them from view?

"Vader."

They halted in their tracks. Luke lifted his head to see Bail Organa, his sister's adoptive father, barring the door out of the medical center.

"What do you want?" demanded Owen.

"Where are you going with Luke?" Bail replied evenly, showing no fear at confronting Vader.

"Out of our way, Bail," Vader snarled. "I will not lose my son again… and Luke will not lose his father again. Even if it means fleeing beyond the Outer Rim to ensure it, even if it means facing down the entire Imperial Fleet. Luke is all I have left. I will not let your resistance fighters or your newfound Jedi Master take him from me."

"I know," Bail replied. "And I have no intention of stopping you." He took a deep breath. "It is my personal belief that Lady Mothma has just lost her mind. Her resistance against the Empire has turned into a vendetta against you… and it seems she's not above letting the Empire take you and have their way with you if it means your death."

"I am aware of that," said Vader. "Obi-wan explained it."

"Then you know time is of the essence. My space yacht is ready to go when you are. Our only problem is transportation back to the homestead and the ship. Mothma took all the speeders with her when she left."

"Including ours?" Owen asked.

"Including yours," Bail said with a measure of disgust.

Vader growled. "Nothing can be simple, can it?"

Luke suddenly had a brainstorm. "Dad, call Sandy and Rocky. Call the dewbacks. They can take us!"

Obi-wan chuckled. "Good thinking, Luke."

Vader was silent a long moment. "They are on their way," he said at last. "I only hope they get here in time."

Luke hoped so as well, with all his heart.

_Break…_

Jedi Master Yoda kept a silent vigil from his hiding spot as the shuttle landed and disgorged its cargo of over a hundred stormtroopers, their white armor bearing the jagged black streaks of Imperial Death Squads. The troops moved with fluid efficiency, fanning out to surround the med center. And at their head, commanding them… Grand Moff Tarkin, garbed in pewter-gray battle armor and a grim expression on his cadaverous face.

He sighed heavily, his ears sagging. Obi-wan's words weighed heavily on his heart. Indeed the Order had made grave errors in judgment regarding Anakin. They had brushed him aside far too many times. They had underestimated the depth of his feelings for those close to him. And they had failed to recognize the true motivation for his turn to the Sith – not lust for power, but desperation to save those he loved.

Love… not the comradeship between Jedi Knights, not the devotion to the Order, but deep and passionate and born of emotion rather than familiarity or duty… it was a concept beyond most Jedi, even the Masters. Yoda could not even begin to fathom what kind of force this love must be, that it could convince the most gifted student of the Force to bargain with the vilest of demons. And he was ashamed to admit it, but it frightened him. Facing a man who fought for love was almost a more frightening proposition than going against Darth Sidious.

Never again would the Jedi underestimate the power of love. Never again would they err in such a fashion.

Never again would there be another Darth Vader.

Yoda gripped his cane in both clawed hands, reaching a decision. If Obi-wan, who had suffered so much betrayal at Vader's hands, could forgive the man and find something redeemable in him, perhaps he was not beyond hope yet. Perhaps something could be done to restore his trust in the Jedi Order. And perhaps Luke was not yet lost to them.

It was time to set things right.

The stormtroopers raised their weapons, ready to fire upon the medical center. Tarkin raised his hand to give the order.

"Grand Moff Tarkin."

The man whirled to see the diminutive Jedi Master emerge from behind a power generator. After his initial reaction of shock and disbelief, a sneer crossed his face.

"I thought the Emperor had eradicated you and your scum," he sniffed. "It seems I must still clean up his mess…"

Yoda raised his hand. "Command your troops to hold their fire."

"You don't frighten me, old one," Tarkin laughed. "And your mind tricks aren't enough to save you here."

"A trick I seek not. A bargain I wish to strike."

"A bargain? What bargain does the Empire have with a Jedi? It's a laughable…"

"Seek Vader you do," Yoda went on as if Tarkin had never spoken. "A friend of the Order Vader is not. No reason to protect him we have."

"That is certainly an understatement. But what are you…"

"Others are there in the medical center," Yoda told him. "Innocent lives. Have their blood on your hands you should not."

"Vader is not a menace to be underestimated," Tarkin retorted. "If a few lives are lost to ensure his destruction, it is a small price to pay…"

"Hold their fire your troops will," Yoda told him. "Go in I shall. Bring out Vader I shall." He leaned on his cane and gave Tarkin a solemn look. "Look after the others I will. Do with the Dark Lord what you will."

Tarkin considered that a moment. Yoda waited patiently. He was sure he had Tarkin convinced that they fought for the same goal at the moment. Whether he would believe it enough to allow Yoda admittance was another story.

"How do I know you aren't plotting something, old one?"

"Nothing to gain have I through guile, do I?" Yoda asked, smiling.

"I suppose not," Tarkin conceded. "Very well. A deal. You flush out Vader, and we will let the medical center alone."

Yoda's eyes narrowed. "Have your word on that do I?"

"Upon my honor," Tarkin replied.

Yoda nodded. "Thank you, Grand Moff Tarkin." He hobbled past the Grand Moff, past the motionless troopers, and into the medical center.

The instant the doors closed behind the Jedi Master, a smile spread across Tarkin's bloodless lips like an opening wound. "Unfortunately, Master Yoda, honor was never one of my strong points." He turned to the Death Squad troopers. "Fire at will."

_Break…_

Explosions tore through the walls of the lobby, and everyone hit the floor as blaster fire ribboned the air. Vader held himself over Luke's body as a shield, feeling shrapnel and hot sparks rain down on his back and shoulders.

"What the stang!" shouted Owen.

"They're attacking the medical center!" Bail cried over the sound of rending ferrocrete and shrieking blaster fire.

"Like we couldn't tell," remarked Vader dryly.

"Dad, I can't see!" complained Luke, struggling to rise.

"Stay down!" Vader ordered, pushing Luke back to the floor.

The assault could not have taken longer than a few minutes, but to the five of them it seemed to drag on for hours. The horrific onslaught shredded their nerves and eardrums and showered them with dust and rubble. And when the blaster fire finally ceased, the silence nearly deafened them.

Vader raised his head slightly, squinting through the film of dust that layered the lenses of his mask. What now?

"They must be dead," came the tinny voice of a stormtrooper. "Nothing could have survived that."

"Make certain," answered Tarkin's coldly refined voice. "Vader is harder to kill than a Kessel roach. Search for survivors, then use an ion charge to make sure."

"Yes sir."

Obi-wan turned to face Vader, blood from a shrapnel blow trickling down his right temple and into his dust-whitened beard. "This just got complicated."

"How are we supposed to get out now?" demanded Owen, struggling to rise.

"Stay down!" hissed Bail. "If they see us move, they'll shoot."

"If we stay here, we get fried!" retorted Owen.

"Patience, gentlemen," Obi-wan urged them. "And have faith. Anakin and I have gotten out of tighter spots than this."

"Correction, Master," Vader replied. "I got you out of tighter situations than this."

"Oh, right," Obi-wan acknowledged dryly.

The broken ferrocrete crunched under boots as troopers stepped into the lobby, weapons raised.

Vader rested a hand on Luke's shoulder. _/Stay here/ _he ordered. _/I will not see you hurt again./_

_/But what if you're in trouble? I have to help you/_

_/Stay down. That will help more than anything else./_

Obi-wan gave him a sidelong glance. Vader returned the look with an infinitesimal nod.

Then both men were on their feet in an instant, blue and scarlet lightsabers ignited. Startled, the troopers opened fire, but they blocked the bolts easily and struck. One by one the troopers went down, fighting to the end but unable to stand against a Jedi… and a Chosen One.

Bail gaped. "That was…"

"Barbaric?" Obi-wan offered. "I know you find violence abhorrent, Organa, but unfortunately it is unavoidable in some cases."

Luke struggled to his feet. "That was awesome!"

"Be that as it may," Vader replied, "I do NOT want you playing with this." He extinguished his saber. "It is a weapon, not a toy."

Luke nodded, still awestruck. "Will I get to use one someday?"

"Someday," Vader replied. "When you are old enough."

A bellow from outside grabbed their attention. The dewbacks had arrived! Vader had been skeptical about calling the beasts, but now he did not doubt that their loyalty to Luke – and to Luke's father – were unshakeable.

"Put me down!" Luke demanded as Owen lifted him. "I can walk!"

"Don't make a fuss now, of all times, Luke," pleaded Owen.

Outside the ruined med center there were few troops – most were inside searching for Vader. A cluster of them surrounded Grand Moff Tarkin, and at a hysterical order from the Moff they opened fire.

Vader and Obi-wan's weapons were a deadly blur, sapphire and ruby arcs and spirals as they blocked and slashed, knocking aside blaster fire and cutting down the clone soldiers. Within seconds, the only man left standing was Tarkin, who promptly hit his knees and gave Vader a haughty look.

"So it ends here, Vader," he murmured, his gaze cold and hateful. "And I suppose you will take the galaxy as your own now? Will you declare yourself Emperor?"

At one time, that had been Vader's very intention, to overthrow Palpatine and instate himself as supreme leader of the galaxy. No more. He'd had enough of power and all its trappings. He'd found no satisfaction in dominion, no joy in playing the tyrant. He could not accept the title of Emperor, not even now, when the chance was his for the taking.

Instead, he turned to Bail. "With Tarkin out of power, it falls on you, Bail Organa, to lead the Galactic Senate," he told him. "And the first order of business, I believe, is to elect a new Supreme Chancellor."

Bail's eyes widened, then he smiled in understanding. "It will be done."

Vader extinguished his saber. "I hereby place Tarkin under citizen's arrest. He comes with us. Once we have left Tatooine, he is yours to do with as you see fit, Organa."

Tarkin cursed vehemently. Luke's eyes bulged.

"If I catch you repeating that," Vader informed Luke, "I will scrub your mouth out."

Luke grimaced. "I don't even know what it means."

"Good." He grabbed the nearest dewback by the reins. "Let's go."

_Break…_

The sight that met the Rebels' eyes when they returned to the med center was a horrible one – the building was in flaming ruins and surrounded by the bodies of Death Squad stormtroopers, all obviously felled by lightsabers. The Imperials had apparently finished their business and departed, for the shuttle was nowhere in sight. Tracks from some sort of huge animal led away from the med center – whether a survivor had fled on beast-back or a scavenger had stopped to investigate, who could say?

"Good stars, what happened here?" breathed Mothma.

"You should have known something like this would happen, Mothma," muttered Zevul coldly. To Fett and Han he ordered, "Search for survivors."

No one spoke as they surveyed the wreckage, seeking any sign of life. From the look of things, everyone who had been in the medical center at the time of the attack – doctors, patients, visitors, technicians – had either been shot or incinerated. They had achieved Vader's death, but at a terrible price.

Chewbacca bellowed.

"What is it?" Mothma inquired, turning toward the Wookie.

He stood and carried a tiny body to Mothma – Yoda. The Jedi's robes were black with ash, and his green skin had been slightly burned in places, but no other injury was visible.

"He's unconscious, but he's okay," Zevul noted after a quick inspection. "Looks like debris knocked him out."

"Mothma, come look at this," Han called.

She walked to the tracks the boy was investigating. "Find something of interest?"

"Master Tracker did," he replied, jerking a thumb at Fett, who crouched over the print of a clawed beast.

"Two dewbacks arrived from the direction of the Lars homestead," the hunter reported. "The tracks of four adults and a child approached them. The human tracks end here." He pointed to a curve in the tracks where the beasts had turned back to where they had come from. "There are sweeping marks in the sands from robes and cloaks, so they could not have been stormtroopers. And someone knelt down here." He pointed to a bizarre indentation in the sand. "From all appearances, they left on the dewbacks… and took a captive with them."

"Vader survived," Mothma realized. "And he has a hostage."

Zevul fixed Mothma with a serious look. "How far are you going to pursue this, Mothma? How much time are we going to waste chasing this man, and how many more must die before you're satisfied?"

"This is not about revenge!" she snapped. "This is about eliminating a very dangerous man. And while what happened here is a tragedy, it is also the very reason why we must capture or destroy Vader at all costs. To ensure this doesn't happen again."

Zevul flung his blaster into the dirt. "Then go on and hunt this man and his son to the far corners of the galaxy. But you no longer have my help. I joined your resistance to restore justice to the galaxy, not exact revenge." And he stormed away.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X**

A high-pitched roar startled Biggs out of his reverie, and he looked up in time to see half a dozen landspeeders shriek across the desert not fifty meters from him, dust flaring in their wake. Each one contained four or five men, blasters out, faces grim. A regal-looking white-robed woman rode in the passenger seat of the lead speeder, a determined expression on her face.

Biggs dropped the length of wire he'd been scratching at the dirt with and ran forward for a closer look. This looked like a far more promising way to avoid cleaning the vaporators!

He assumed the fleet of speeders would pass on by without slowing. After all, at the speed they were going, they had to be pursuing or fleeing something, and time would be of the essence. But inexplicably, the vehicles buzzed to a halt, and the woman in the white dress beckoned Biggs with a slim hand.

Puzzled, he stepped closer, peering curiously into the vehicle. Stretched out on the back seat was a weird midget of an alien with green skin, enormous ears, and soot-stained robes. Was the thing dead? Or hurt? It was hard to tell.

"Hello, young man," she greeted him. "Can you help us?"

"Depends on the help," he replied.

"Have you seen a group of men on two dewbacks passing by?"

"No, why?"

She scowled slightly, then waved him away. "Thank you for your time."

He watched the speeders roar off. Weird. Who was she anyhow?

He was about to go back to work on the vaporator when another speeder pulled up. This one contained a much odder collection of creatures – a man in red robes and armor, a boy only a few years older than Biggs, a Wookie… and Boba Fett? He couldn't suppress a gape as he approached the speeder. The galaxy's best bounty hunter was here?

"Hey there!" the man in red shouted. "Which way to the Lars homestead?"

Biggs frowned. "Why do you want to know?"

"We don't have time for questions," snarled Fett.

The Wookie huffed warningly at the hunter, who glowered back.

"You know Luke Skywalker?" asked the man in red.

"Yeah, we're best friends," Biggs replied. "Why?"

"Do you know about his father?"

"Yeah, why?"

"There's a woman named Mothma," the man explained. "She wants to see Vader dead or worse. She and her men are after Vader, and we have to stop her."

Biggs felt his mouth go dry. "Um… did this lady have red hair? And white clothes?"

"Yes. You've seen her?"

"She just went that way!" Biggs exclaimed, thrusting an arm in the direction the speeders had gone. "Her and a whole bunch of creeps with guns!"

The boy kicked open the speeder door. "Get in, kid. We've got a crazy woman to catch."

Biggs hopped in between the Wookie and Fett, and they shrieked across the desert.

_Break…_

The homestead was nearly in sight when a blaster bolt tore the hard earth to Rocky's left, making him veer hard in the opposite direction. More bolts peppered the cracked ground, and the dewbacks bellowed their displeasure and pranced frantically to avoid the energy blasts.

"Stang it all, they've caught up with us," snarled Owen, bringing Sandy to a halt.

"Owen, Bail, go on ahead with Luke and Tarkin," Vader ordered, leaping from Rocky's back. "Obi-wan and I will handle this."

"That's just what she wants!" Bail countered. "We're staying."

"Dad, I'm not leaving you," Luke said forcefully. "Please don't send me away."

The speeders circled them, cutting off any possible escape. Mothma carefully exited her vehicle and addressed the men with a perfect calmness.

"For the last time, hand over Darth Vader," she ordered.

"And for the last time, I die before surrendering myself to you," Vader replied coolly. "I refuse to abandon my son again."

Her gaze moved to the boy, then back to Vader. "Whether you are a father or not, Vader, the fact remains that you have committed horrible crimes. You have proven yourself time and again to be a danger, not only to your enemies, but to your allies. I do not trust you. No one sane SHOULD trust you."

"I trust him," Luke interrupted. "And I'm plenty sane."

She ignored him. "I vowed long ago to make this galaxy safe again, Vader. I will do all in my power to ensure it remains that way."

"Interesting," Vader replied. "This coming from the woman who allowed a Jedi ally to wound my son and served as an accomplice to the destruction of the Anchorhead med center. It would seem that you are as much a danger to the galaxy as you accuse me of being."

"Those were unintentional…"

"Do you honestly think I intended to become a monster? I admit, I have blood on my hands – innocent blood, even the blood of children. That knowledge will haunt me for the rest of my life. But I am repentant. I seek no more bloodshed… except that necessary to protect my son." He felt his mouth twist in a grim smile. "A threat to Luke would be the only reason for me to shed blood now."

Mothma clearly understood the implied warning, but that didn't deter her. "We sought no harm against your son. We only wished…"

"To destroy me. You have made that abundantly clear. You will not rest until I have been eliminated." He nodded understandingly. "Your motive is no longer the safety of the galaxy, but revenge. A motive I know all too well."

She flushed as red as her hair. "This is not about revenge…"

"Then why go to so much trouble to see a repentant man dead? Why stoop so low as to allow the Empire to take lives in the hope that my life will be among them? Why waste time here when your energies can be better spent in other areas of the galaxy, aiding the oppressed and war-torn there?" He shook his head. "I pity you, Mothma. You may hate me, but all I feel for you is grief."

She did not reply, only glared.

"Can we pass by now?" asked Owen. "My wife'll be worried sick."

"Let them pass, Mothma," a rough, familiar voice urged. "Seek further harm we will not."

Mothma whirled as Yoda emerged from the speeder, limping badly but still gamely keeping his usual pace. He strode forward until he was face to face (or rather, face to knee) with Vader and gave him a penetrating stare.

"Anakin," he said quietly, "owe you an apology I do."

He might as well have punched Vader in the stomach. "What?"

"For failing you," he replied. "A gifted student you were. A great Jedi you could have become. But failed you the Order did. Share some blame you do, and share blame the Emperor did as well… but for our part in your fall, my apologies I offer."

Mothma gaped at the diminutive Jedi Master, an expression Vader knew was mirrored on his own face. Was this the same Master he had dueled just last night?

"Go in peace, Anakin. Seek more harm upon you the Order will not."

"Master Yoda, you can't just…" began Mothma.

"Vengeance, anger, hatred, the dark side are they," Yoda told her firmly. "Hate this man I shall not. Chose to forgive him I did. Do the same I suggest you do."

Vader stared, dumbstruck. For Master Yoda to admit wrongdoing, to seek apology, was too incredible for him to absorb immediately.

"Let's end this, Mothma," Bail suggested. "Enough lives have been lost. Let's leave the man alone."

But Mothma's eyes flashed, and Vader realized that she was in far too deeply to let go now. She had lost face and credibility before her men, she had been responsible for the loss of innocent lives… and she had to justify that loss somehow.

"You have exactly ten seconds to surrender, Lord Vader, or I order my men to open fire upon you and your friends," she ordered harshly. "One… two…"

A blaster bolt seared through the air and hit the speeder just behind Mothma. Stunned, she fell to the ground to dodge the blast, and the gathered rebels opened fire at the intruder. Vader took advantage of the distraction to grab Rocky's reins and haul himself aboard, and both dewbacks broke into a frenzied gallop.

"What the stang was that?" demanded Owen.

Vader craned his neck about. A lone speeder had plowed into the midst of Mothma and her men, its occupants firing for all they were worth. He recognized Zevul, Chewbacca, Han, and Fett, Mothma's former underlings… but who was the boy among them…

"Biggs!" screamed Luke. "We've gotta go back!"

"We can't go back," Bail told him. "They'll kill your father, and possibly the rest of us as well."

"We have to help Biggs!"

Vader jerked Rocky's reins, turning him around.

"Vader, what are you doing?" demanded Owen.

"Rescuing Luke's friend," he replied, kicking Rocky into a run.

The boy was fighting gamely alongside his more experienced compatriots, but his inexperience with a blaster was making him as much a danger to himself as to his enemies. Vader brought the dewback to a halt beside the speeder, saber out to deflect blaster fire even as he grabbed Biggs by the back of his shirt and hauled him across the dewback's shoulders. Biggs struggled only for a moment before he realized who had him, then dropped the blaster and clung tightly to the saddle.

"Lord Vader, get out of here!" shouted Zevul. "We can take care of… AUUGHH!"

Rocky backed away with a dismayed bellow as Zevul was thrown violently from the speeder and to the sands by a close-range blast. The mercenary who had gunned him down next turned his weapon on Vader, but a swipe of his lightsaber sliced the weapon in two.

A blast struck Vader's arm, shredding the elbow joint, and his fingers spasmed before going limp. His lightsaber fell, useless, to the sands, and before he could retrieve it the now-panicked Rocky stepped on it, crushing it underfoot. He wanted to scream his outrage. Why did no good deed ever go unpunished?

"Anakin!"

He turned just as Obi-wan flung his own weapon at him. Vader extended his good arm, and the saber smacked into his palm, igniting as he did so. Just in time, for a renewed volley of blaster fire came his way, and it took all his concentration to block the blasts one-handed.

Mothma bent down and picked up Zevul's blaster. She leveled it at Vader's unprotected back.

"Away put your weapon, Mothma…" ordered Yoda.

"You're a fool!" she screamed at him. "You lost everything to this monster! Will you really just stand back and watch him escape?"

Yoda didn't flinch. "Yes. Let him go I shall. Let go of my hatred I shall. And let go you shall to."

"I refuse to let go, Master Yoda. And you cannot stop me."

"Stop you I will not," Yoda acknowledged. "Another's task that is."

Before she could ask what the stang that meant, a small but powerful body smashed into the small of her back. Her shot went wide, hissing past Vader's damaged arm and doing little more than scorch the leather. She hit the ground face-first, her mouth filling with sand, wiry legs astride her, fists pummeling her shoulders and back.

"Don't hurt my father, you witch!" Luke shrieked.

Yoda waited a few moments before reaching out and taking Luke's wrist in his hand. "Let her alone, young Luke. Learned her lesson she has."

Luke glared at him. "Don't make me hit you too! You tried to kill my dad, and I'll never…"

Yoda silenced him with a stern look. "Mothma, order your men to cease fire. Lost the battle you have. Admit it graciously you should."

She raised her head and gave him a sour expression. "Never."

"Over it is," Yoda informed her. "Let go of your hate."

"We will go down fighting," she vowed. "We have sacrificed too much to quit now…"

Yoda sighed. "Do this the hard way we must." He ignited his lightsaber and held it before Mothma's face.

She gave him a look of horror. "You wouldn't…"

"I would not," he confessed. "But know that your men don't." He raised his voice. "Hold your fire!"

It took a few seconds for the order to take effect, but eventually the sounds of pitched battle tapered off.

"Drop your weapons," Yoda ordered, "or strike I do."

Slowly, each soldier dropped his or her weapon and backed away.

"Take Mothma with us we shall," Yoda announced. "Go back to your homeworlds you will. Rethink your lives you will."

A dull expression crossed the face of each and every soldier, and they muttered vague agreements and scattered aimlessly, some returning to the speeders, others simply strolling off.

Luke gaped. "How'd you do that?"

Obi-wan bent down and helped Luke up. "The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded, Luke."

"Wow," he breathed.

"Your father will have to show you that someday," Obi-wan told him with a smile.

Vader turned to stare at his Master. "I thought I would not be permitted to train my son."

Yoda frowned. "Approve of that I do not. Forgive Vader I do, but trust him with the training of a Padawan I do not."

"Simply because you do not approve does not make it wrong," Vader retorted, glaring at Yoda. "I know you considered the old Order to be above reproach, but there are many parts of the Order that desperately need changing before it can be brought back."

Yoda's expression didn't change, but his eyes sparkled amusedly. "If hear you the old Jedi Council could, accused of blasphemy you would be."

"Good," Vader replied, unrepentant. "The old Jed Council could have used some shaking up."

Yoda smiled at last. "Discuss the Order we will at a later date. For now, begin training Luke his father will, with Obi-wan's guidance. Agreeable is that?"

Vader nodded. "Agreeable it is."

Luke whooped and punched the air with his arm, then winced. "Ow! When's this chest thing gonna go away anyhow?"

"Soon enough," Vader told him.

While the Jedi discussed Luke's future, Bail and Owen busied themselves with binding Mothma's hands and feet. Once she was secured, they tossed her onto Sandy's back alongside Tarkin.

"You can't do this!" she cried indignantly.

"I most assuredly can, Mothma," Bail said without remorse. "Your actions have proven you unfit for the office of Senator. You're hereby under arrest. Chandrila will have to elect a new Senator." He turned to Han, Chewie, and Fett. "Thank you for your aid. It is most appreciated."

"Just doing what I was paid to do," Fett growled.

Han kicked aimlessly at the dirt. "What happens now?"

"What do you mean, son?"

"I really don't have anything to go back to on Corusant. Mothma agreed to pay me for my help, but now that she's in custody…"

Bail smiled kindly. "Let it never be said that the Royal House of Alderaan ever turned away someone in need. Perhaps, young man, I can find you employ in my palace as a page or server. It won't be a paying job, as that would be breaking several child labor laws, but you'll have room and board, as well as an opportunity to attend school."

A hopeful expression crossed his face. "Where do I sign up?"

Before Bail could reply, a groan came from the fallen Zevul. Chewbacca growled softly and lifted the man carefully.

"Get him on Rocky's back," Bail ordered. "We'll get him first aid as soon as we reach the homestead."

_Break…_

Owen had known this day would come eventually. It didn't make it any easier, of course, but at least it wasn't a complete shock. As much as he liked to deny it, he had known, on some level, that Luke would someday leave Tatooine, possibly permanently. He just hadn't known it would be in the care of his father, a crazy old wizard, and a senator. Not that it made a lot of difference. In fact, with two Jedi and the Chosen One looking out for his welfare, he would probably be the safest boy in the galaxy.

It had been agreed that, for now, Alderaan was the safest possible place for Luke and Vader to go. Luke would have access to expert medical care until he had fully recovered from his injuries, as well as to some of the best schools in the galaxy. Leia would have a chance to be close to her biological father, and the Order would have a safe refuge until they could take their rightful place in the galaxy once again, hopefully stronger now that they had learned from their past mistakes.

Of course, knowing that this was best for his nephew and stepbrother didn't make letting them go any easier. If anything, knowing they had little choice in the matter only twisted the knife deeper.

Owen embraced the boy as tightly as he dared, careful of his injured chest. "Be careful, Luke."

"I will," Luke vowed. "I'll come back someday. I promise."

"We'll look forward to it."

Luke let go of Owen and hugged his friend. "Say goodbye to the other kids for me," he murmured. "Oh, and take good care of Sandy and Rocky."

"Count on it, Wormie," teased Biggs.

Beru knelt and embraced Luke as well, tears in her eyes. Owen knew she considered Luke to be a son… the child they were never able to have on their own. This was hard on Owen, of course, but Beru's heart must be breaking now.

Vader stepped forward and extended a hand solemnly. "I am indebted to you, Owen, for all you have done for my son and me. I promise to repay you someday, somehow."

"Don't worry about repayment," Owen said dismissively, clasping the hand. "That's what family does, brother. They look after each other."

Vader's head cocked at an amused angle. "This brother business is going to take some getting used to, isn't it?"

Owen chuckled softly. "I'd be honored to call you brother, Anakin Skywalker."

"And I would be honored to call you brother, Owen Lars."

Owen nodded brusquely in the direction of Bail's ship. "You'd better go. The day isn't getting any longer."

"May the Force be with you, Owen."

"You too. Take care of Luke."

"I shall."

Owen watched, wistful, as his stepbrother took Luke's hand and walked slowly toward the waiting space yacht. Part of him longed to go with them, if only to see what adventure lay in store for them beyond Tatooine. But part of him also knew that his fate lay here, in the desert farmlands, while theirs was written in the stars. Their paths went separate ways, and while they might intersect again someday, for now parting was necessary.

"We will return," Obi-wan assured Owen. "Give us some time to get things settled down, then we will come back. Luke needs contact with his family. Even Master Yoda sees that now."

Owen's gaze moved to the ship. "What about the others? You brought back quite the menagerie…"

"Zevul needs medical care, and Tarkin and Mothma will be transported to a detention block as soon as possible," Obi-wan replied. "The boy, Han, is Bail Organa's ward for the time being; we will see if he is beyond any sort of reform. Chewbacca has agreed to take on employment at the Royal House of Alderaan, and Fett…" He shook his head. "He was always his own man. He departed for Ord Mantel the minute we placed Mothma under arrest."

Owen smiled. "Sounds like you have your work cut out for you, Obi-wan."

"It will be worth it."

"May the Force be with you, you crazy old wizard."

"And with you, Owen."

Owen felt very old all of a sudden as the ship rose in the air and shrieked away.

_Break…_

Luke pressed his face to the window, watching Tatooine vanish and the stars become blinding streaks as they penetrated hyperspace. "I wonder when we'll be back."

"You have only been gone for five minutes, Luke," said Vader, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

"I know." He shrugged. "I just have a funny feeling. Like I'm never going to see this place again. I know it was a dirtball, but… it was home."

Leia took his hand. "We'll all go back someday, Luke. I promise. I'd like to go back someday."

"I wouldn't," Han complained, brushing something off his shirt. "Too much sand for my tastes."

Luke turned to face the older boy. "You get used to the sand after awhile."

Han shrugged. "To each his own. Give me the streets of Corusant any day."

Vader just smiled beneath his mask. "What you are in for under Bail Organa's care, young Han, is a far cry from the streets of Corusant. A far cry indeed."

**Author's Note**

Some readers may have noticed that the summary for this story changed partway through. That's because the story itself took an abrupt turn as I wrote. No longer was it about Luke and his father dealing with the ghosts of the past. Instead, it was about a galaxy suddenly gone unstable in the aftermath of the Emperor's death… and the only thing the warring factions had in common anymore was their desire to have Vader out of the picture for whatever reasons.

Going back and re-reading earlier chapters, I realized that I had forgotten to take travel time into account while writing this story. Most of the action takes place during the course of two or three hectic days. Apparently a ride from Corusant to Tatooine is just a jaunt to the store? Joking, of course, I know it must take much longer. Color me inattentive for not paying attention to that detail.

I'm aware that my characterization of Mothma made her almost more of a monster than Tarkin, but then again, I've never been a big fan of her character (see my blog for details). Yoda's character began the same way, yes, but I hope he redeemed himself sufficiently.

Zevul Lodestar is an original character, and his first name is the Hebrew word for "exalted abode." His last name is an actual word – according to the Webster's dictionary, "lodestar" is any star used for the purposes of guiding and navigation, especially a polar star such as the North Star.

And yes, I took great liberties in the lives of the canon characters, but hey, this is an AU.

Thank you for your time, and may the Force be with you.


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